


The Magnus Academy - A Collection of Scenes

by Annzy_Bananzy



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27143633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annzy_Bananzy/pseuds/Annzy_Bananzy
Summary: To any teenagers in the London area that might find themselves with extraordinary gifts (such as the ability to fly, or to conjure the elements, or to see the future, etc.), the Magnus Academy was the place to go. A place to harness and perfect the powers they were born with, and a place where they can be better supervised by professors that also have special powers. After all, we can’t expect a non-powered teacher to keep a rowdy student that can conjure fire in line, can we?(Mainly fluffy Jonmartin scenes right now while I think of an actual plot)
Relationships: Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James & Tim Stoker
Comments: 20
Kudos: 78





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I love magic/super power school AUs, even if I'm not sure what the overarching plot should be (if I ever think of one), so in the meantime please enjoy these fluffy Jonmartin scenes that I came up with for this premise.

“Good morning, everyone,” Jon greeted the professors that were all sitting in the teacher’s lounge, enjoying their breakfast as they waited for the morning meeting to start. “Not much to go over today. The weather is fine for any classes that wish to be held outdoors, and everyone’s lesson plans for today are decent, except for…” Jon scanned the heads in the room, trying to find, “Ah, Tim — I’m sorry to say that your plans for kayaking during PE need to be rescheduled. The current is much too fast for the students.” 

“Aww!” Tim whined, crossing his arms. “But boss, the kids were really looking forward to it! Can’t you just come and supervise? Keep us away from any particularly dangerous spots?” 

Jon sighed and shook his head. “You know I’m far too busy for that kind of thing.” 

“Oh, but they’ll be so disappointed!” 

Jon simply stared at him for a few seconds. “Would you  _ really _ rather endanger our students’ lives just for a bit of kayaking?” 

“Well, when you put it like that.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Jon sighed, looking down at his notes to make sure there wasn’t anything else. “All right, that should cover it. Any questions or comments?” When no one said anything, he nodded to dismiss them before heading out of the lounge, back towards his office. 

“Ah, wait, Jon!” He stopped in the middle of the hallways, turning to see Martin approaching him with a sheepish smile on his face. “About that, um, problem student? I mentioned a couple weeks back?” 

“The one that keeps turning invisible to try and pants the other students?” 

“Yeah, that one.” Martin sighed, shaking his head. “Well, he’s, he’s done doing  _ that _ particular prank after a talking to and a few detentions, but um… now he, well he seems to have discovered how to just… turn others’ clothes invisible?” 

“Oh, good lord.” Jon ran his fingers through the top of his hair and down the long strands, taking a deep breath so he didn’t start screaming. Turning something other than yourself (or anything on your person) invisible was something that took years to master if you could do it at all, so no doubt this student was having a blast feeling “special.” “And who have been his victims so far?” 

“I think he’s only been using it on his friends, since they find it, um… funny? He doesn’t even know I saw him do it — I was just doing my rounds through the dorms last night when I spotted them in the common room.” 

“I suppose that’s good news, given what else he could do with that power.” Jon sighed, shaking his head to ward off the sense of dread he was starting to feel. “So you haven’t talked to him yet?” 

“Ah, no. I was hoping you could, well,  _ see _ if he’s done it to anyone else, um, without their consent? Or if he plans to? Because that would help me know how to talk to him about it, I think.” 

“Yes, good idea.” Jon sighed, closing his eyes for a moment so he could concentrate. With so many minds in the school, it took a few moments for him to hone in on the student he was looking for. But once he found him it was relatively easy to find the information he needed. “He only discovered this a couple days ago, when he was willing his dirty laundry would disappear so he wouldn’t have to deal with it. Since then he told his friends about it, who of course wanted proof, and so far those are the only other students he’s used this new ability on. He seems more preoccupied with seeing if he can make more dense objects disappear, such as a chair, or a book, or an entire person. He was actually going to talk with you about it today, during individual study.” 

“Oh, that’s a relief!” Martin exhaled quite loudly, a hand over his heart and his smile much more relaxed now. “I’ll be glad to talk to him then. Thanks.” 

“My pleasure.” 


	2. Holiday Work Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like a game of truth-or-dare to try and set up some idiot coworkers!

“We’re really going to play truth or dare?” Jon knew that end-of-semester work parties were rarely enjoyable, but this was hitting rather a new low. 

“As a  _ drinking game _ , boss!” Tim tried to sell him on it, a big grin on his face. He was wearing a dark green button-up shirt with bright red poinsettias all over it, and of course a traditional, red Santa cap. “Come on, it’ll be fun for a few rounds at least!” 

Jon sighed and shook his head. “It’s not a good idea for me to play. If I’m drinking I can’t control my compulsion as well, which could mean that any ‘truth’ I ask someone, they’d blurt it out without a second thought.” Not to mention the fact that he’d have to actually come up with good questions, if he didn’t want to be made fun of. 

“Well, just don’t drink a lot, then!” Tim suggested. “Come on, just a few rounds?” 

Jon pursed his lips, looking from Tim to the few other hopeful faces that wanted to play. He wasn’t surprised to see Sasha and Martin in the mix, as those three were good friends, and Georgie was always down to participate in anything that might embarrass him, but it was slightly surprising to see Melanie, Basira, and Daisy in on it, too. “You all  _ really _ want to play?” 

“Just so he’ll shut up for a little while,” Sasha teased, playfully nudging Tim with her elbow. He stuck his tongue out at her in return before they both laughed. 

“It sounds fun, Jon,” Georgie added, raising a brow at him. “Remember fun?” 

Jon was sure the tips of his ears were turning red with embarrassment as the others chuckled at him. Ah, this was why you should never work with your friends. “Of course I remember  _ fun _ .” 

“Oh yeah?” Melanie joined in, scoffing slightly. “Prove it.” 

“Take a load off, boss.” Daisy tilted her cup of beer towards him in some kind of salute. “Relax with us.” 

“Just don’t go asking me any truths if you’re really worried about your powers,” Basira had to comment. 

“I’m sure he’ll have it under control,” Martin argued gently, frowning at Basira. “He’s not even drinking right now anyway.” 

“Yeah, but he looks like a lightweight.” 

“Basira!” 

“No, no, she’s right.” Jon took a deep breath before relenting, “All right, I’ll join. But I think I will be drinking water for this game.” 

“Good enough for me!” Tim clapped his hands together. “Everyone get a drink and come to the balcony!” 

It didn’t take long for everyone to pour their drinks and sneak away from the main party and into the chilly night. Jon carefully chose to sit between Georgie and Sasha, and once everyone was settled outside in an assortment of folding chairs, Sasha was the first one to start. 

“Truth or dare, Tiny Tim?” 

Tim laughed, tapping a finger to his chin in thought. “Mm… dare.” 

“Perfect.” Sasha grinned. “I dare you to bark like a dog.  _ Loudly _ .” 

Tim laughed, taking a second to put his drink down and clear his throat. “Get ready, everyone — my impression of a dog will shock and impress you.” 

“Just get on with it,” Daisy grumbled, taking a sip of her beer. 

Sadly, Tim took his time, wanting to savor the attention and anticipation. He took a long, deep breath, and then gave the highest-pitched “yip” he could muster. 

Most of the small circle burst into laughter from just how underwhelming the sound was, which of course encouraged Tim to take a few bows. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all night!” 

“That wasn’t a bark!” Sasha argued through her laughs. “That was a whimper!” 

“I think it still counts!” Tim grinned at her before turning to the others. “Georgie, truth or dare?” 

Things continued on like that for awhile. The dares to follow were of the same fashion, ridiculous and fun, while the truths ranged anywhere from “What’s your favorite color?” to “Are you dating anyone right now?” 

Jon, unfortunately, was the victim of the latter question, asked by none other than Melanie. “For goodness’ sakes.” Jon took a deep breath, letting it out in a slow sigh. “I really don’t understand why you’re all so obsessed with my love life.” 

“You can skip if you really don’t want to answer,” Melanie baited, taking a sip of her chardonnay. “Though then we’ll be forced to come to our own conclusions.” 

Jon rolled his eyes, avoiding looking at anyone as he shared, “No, I am not dating anyone right now. Nor have I for about a year, to be completely truthful.” 

“Ooh, wow!” Tim exaggerated his surprise, putting both hands to his cheeks. “Do you hear that, everyone? Our dear boss is single and ready to mingle.” 

“I never said  _ that _ —” 

“Maybe you should try online dating,” Georgie suggested playfully. 

Jon just stared at her, biting back a more cutting retort about how her history with online dating had been much less than successful, and instead replying with a dry, “Ha. Ha.” 

Georgie gave a laugh, shrugging it off. “Well, if you don’t like that idea, you could try seeing someone at the Academy.” 

Jon snorted. “Ah, yes, HR would  _ love _ it if I decided to date one of my subordinates.” 

“You could always date Elias if you’re really worried about that,” Tim had to joke. 

“All right, let’s keep the game moving,” Basira spoke up. It was hard to tell if she was having fun or not given her serious nature, but the fact that she was still there counted for something. “Pick a victim, Jon.” 

“Mm. Daisy, truth or dare?” 

“Oh.” She seemed surprised to be picked, taking a moment to think it over. “Dare, I suppose.” 

“I dare you to…” Jon paused, trying to think of something that would be interesting but still work appropriate. “Do a cartwheel?” 

“Ooh, that’s actually a good one!” Sasha seemed rather impressed. Jon wasn’t sure if he should feel insulted or not. 

Daisy chuckled a little, handing her cup to Basira before standing. “All right. Should be enough space here.” Everyone began cheering her on (Tim being the loudest of course), and she kept a smile on her face as she shook herself out. “Here goes!” She raised her arms before performing a fairly graceful cartwheel, the rest of the group cheering louder for her. 

“And she sticks the landing!” Tim was pretending to be an announcer. “Let’s see what the judges have to say!” He pointed to Sasha, who held up all ten fingers as she laughed at Tim’s antics. “A perfect ten! Let’s see what our other judge has to say?” He gestured to Martin, who tensed and looked rather like a deer in headlights. He fumbled with the drink in his hand before lowering it to the floor and meekly holding up all ten fingers as well. “Another perfect ten! She’s going to the finals!” 

“Oh, shut it, Tim.” Daisy calmly took her seat once again, though she was smiling a bit more now. It was nice to see; she could be rather withdrawn at times. “Can you be quiet now so we can get on with the game?” 

“Oh, it seems the fame is already getting to her head, folks.” 

“Martin, truth or dare?” Daisy ignored him as she took her drink back from Basira. 

“Oh!” Martin looked rather nervous then, glancing at a few other people in the circle before settling on, “Um, truth?” 

Daisy nodded, thinking for only a moment. “Who’s your workplace crush?” 

Almost everyone burst into either laughter or low “Ooo”s of interest. Jon just felt sorry for the poor man, as the blush on his freckled cheeks showed just how embarrassed he was. Although he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t also interested in who Martin’s “work crush” was. 

“Well, that—that’s a loaded question, don’t you think?” Martin started, readjusting his round glasses. “Just assuming I have one? Assuming I’m single?” 

“You don’t have to be single to have a workplace crush,” Tim argued, grinning ear to ear. “Sooo? Who is it?” 

“Pass, then,” Martin said, pointedly turning his head away from everyone as he took a big gulp of his drink. 

“That definitely means he likes someone in this circle,” Basira reasoned. 

Martin choked on his drink, coughing for a bit as he wheezed out, “No, it doesn’t!!” 

“Oh, I  _ really _ think it does.” Melanie nodded in agreement. “And, go figure, would you notice there’s only two men playing with us? That narrows things down, don’t you think?” 

Martin’s entire face was starting to turn red. “Melanie —” 

“Oh, Martin, I’m flattered!” Tim didn’t have to go far to wrap his arms around Martin in a hug, since he was sitting next to him. “If you wanted a date you could have just asked.” 

“Piss off, Tim,” Martin grumbled, pulling at the collar of his kitty Christmas jumper to try and hide his face. 

“Oh?” Tim grinned, sounding like a spider who had trapped someone in its web as he released Martin. “So you’re saying I’m  _ not _ your work crush?” 

“Definitely not,” Martin replied immediately. He seemed to quickly regret saying that, his eyes wide as he stammered, “Not—not that I don’t think you’re a great guy! I mean, sure, you’re funny, and active, just, um, not my type?” 

Tim just gave a laugh, patting Martin on the back so hard that he almost dropped his drink. “Don’t sweat it! No offense taken here.” 

“Sooo,” Sasha drawled, looking up at the sky as she swirled her drink around. “If it’s not Tim, that leaves Jon, right?” 

Jon startled, frozen in place with his cup against his lips as a few of the others stared at him. Though he found his own eyes couldn’t look away from Martin, who was so flushed and tense that Jon was surprised he hadn’t turned invisible from mortification yet. 

“A, again!” Martin’s voice cracked as he hurried to get the words out. “You’re all just  _ assuming _ I have one! And even if I did, don’t, don’t be ridiculous! Jon’s our boss, it’s hardly appropriate. HR and all that!” 

“Oh, please.” Melanie rolled her eyes, taking Georgie’s hand as she continued, “It’s not inherently against the rules for coworkers to date. All they had Georgie and I do was sign a form.” 

“Yep. Very simple.” Georgie nodded in agreement before turning to Jon. “You’re awfully quiet.” 

The rest of the group stopped talking then, all just looking at him. “Um…” Jon swallowed, cleared his throat, and cleared his throat again before pulling at the collar of his own Christmas jumper, glancing between everyone except Martin. “And… what should I say?” 

“Well,” Daisy’s quiet voice somehow sounded much too loud to Jon’s ears. “I’d think if you were against the idea of being Martin’s crush that you would have spoken up by now.” 

“Hold on,” Jon gave a soft laugh, hoping no one could tell how his heart was ready to burst out of his chest. “As Martin keeps saying, you’re all assuming he has a crush in the first place —” 

“Thank you!” Martin was obviously relieved that someone was taking his side. 

“— and besides, even if he does have one, I doubt it would be me.” 

He quickly realized that was the wrong thing to say when everyone just stared at him. 

“What?” 

“You’re joking, right?” Basira was the first to speak up, rolling her eyes. “You’re a powerful psychic with a handsome figure. Perfect crush material.” 

“... Um… thanks?” 

“Not for me, though.” 

“No, no, I got that —” 

“No matter  _ what _ rumors Tim goes around spreading.” 

“Well  _ sorry! _ ” Tim threw his hands up in exasperation. “But when you two started having ‘lunch meetings’ together what was I supposed to think?” 

“That we were doing overtime?” Jon replies with an easy eye roll. “Doing our  _ jobs? _ ” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tim waved him off. “Whatever. Let’s keep it going!” 

Thankfully the attention shifted to the game once more, and the questions became a little less personal. Until, of course, Tim picked Jon as a victim. 

“Um…” Jon hesitated, trying his best to size up Tim’s cheshire grin without the use of his abilities. No doubt Tim would ask him a personal question if he picked truth, but any possible dare he could come up with was bound to be just as embarrassing. 

“We’re waiting, boss,” Tim sang, gleefully enjoying himself. 

“I know, I know.” Jon took a deep breath, nodding his head once as he said. “Truth, then. Though I have a feeling I’ll be skipping it.” 

Tim just laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But think about it, yeah?” He leaned across the circle, staring right into Jon’s eyes as he asked, “Out of everyone playing right now, who would you most want to kiss?” 

Jon was glad he hadn’t been drinking, or else the heat he felt on his cheeks would be much more intense. Without thinking he found his eyes glanced briefly to Martin before he straightened himself, glaring levelly at Tim. “As your boss, it would be highly inappropriate for me to answer such a thing. That’s the kind of statement that could get a complaint lodged against me.” 

“Oh, come on!” Tim groaned, leaning so far back in his chair that his head flopped over. “It’s just harmless fun! You’re not making any advancements!” 

“Some could say otherwise.” 

“Sorry Tim, I’ve gotta agree with Jon on this one,” Sasha spoke up, patting the instigator on the shoulder consolingly. “But it was a good question.” 

Tim pouted, slumping over in his chair and pressing his cheek into his hand. “Everyone’s so sensitive.” 

Jon rolled his eyes, taking a large sip of his water to signify that he would, in fact, skip this turn. Unfortunately he began to choke on his water when he heard Basira say: 

“He definitely looked over at Martin though, right?” 

“Oh, yes,” Melanie nodded in agreement. “Definitely.” 

Jon interrupted any further conversation with a few coughs, having to pound on his chest twice before he could speak. “I did  _ not _ .” 

“I saw that, too,” Georgie added. “It was quick, but he  _ did  _ look at him.” 

“All right.” Jon stood, levelling a glare at each and every person who had just spoken. “I think I’m done with this game now. Have a good night, everyone.” 

A few of them began to whine, but Jon just hurried back into the conference hall with the rest of the teaching staff, taking a deep breath to try and calm his heart. He’d no doubt have to talk with Martin about this later (if for no other reason than to assure Martin that he was safe to be around), but for right now he needed to calm himself down. He felt slightly guilty for leaving such a gentle man to that pack of wolves, but he had confidence that Martin would manage himself fine. Besides, Jon’s continued presence would probably make it worse anyway. 

* * *

“You all are terrible!” Martin exclaimed once Jon had left. He knew his face was still a bright red, and his hands were starting to shake. The fact that most of them were laughing just made him feel more sour. 

“But he  _ did _ look at you,” Basira insisted. “You’ve got to feel a little hopeful hearing that, right?” 

Martin groaned and slumped over, covering his face fully with one hand. “Please shut up.” 

“You’ve got to take chances if you really want to be with Jon,” Georgie advised. “He’s never going to approach you on his own.” 

“I don’t think he’s going to approach me  _ ever again _ after all that!” Martin lifted his head just so he could give each and every one of them a frustrated frown. “You all made him so uncomfortable!” 

“Aw, give the boss more credit,” Tim said, patting Martin on the back consolingly. “If anything he’ll probably try apologizing to you.” 

“That’s even worse!” Martin bemoaned, running his hand down his face. “I hate all of you right now.” 

“Oh, lighten up,” Daisy suggested, resting her elbows on her knees as she raised a brow at him. “I say go for it. Jon really didn’t seem to mind being your crush, you know? But I could hear his heart racing. Plus, he did look at you when Tim asked about kissing.” 

“You all keep saying that, but I didn’t see it.” 

“That’s because you were looking  _ away _ from him!” Sasha cut in, clearly annoyed. “How can you both be this infuriatingly stupid?” 

“Okay, well — even if he  _ did _ look at me, that doesn’t  _ mean  _ anything! Maybe I was just in his line of sight or something.” 

Sasha shook her head, grumbling, “I am one second away from shifting into you and flirting with Jon myself.” 

“ _ Don’t you dare! _ ” 

“Hey, it’d take the burden off of your shoulders,” Tim joked, nudging Martin lightly with his fist. 

Martin was hardly impressed, leveling a glare at who he  _ thought _ were his friends before standing. “I think I’ll be done with this game, too.” 

* * *

For the next half hour, Jon and Martin were very careful to stay away from each other. Jon decided he needed just one drink to settle his nerves, while Martin somehow found himself on his third drink of the evening already. He was only just starting to feel it, though, so that should be fine. 

It was like this that they ran into each other while refreshing their drinks, both slightly startled to see the other. 

“Ah, Martin,” Jon spoke first, his tone betraying nothing but professionalism. “Would you mind if we went somewhere to talk for a moment?” 

“Not at all.” Martin did his best to give an easy smile, but that was hard when he felt his heart in his throat. 

They ended up right back on the balcony, since the game had ended and not many others seemed to want to endure the cold. 

“We won’t be long,” Jon assured, cradling his cup of warm apple cider. “I just wanted to clear up some things from the game, ah, earlier.” 

Martin couldn’t help but laugh a little, clearly nervous as he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “There’s nothing to clear up! Just a bit of coworker teasing, you know?” 

“Even so, some… allegations were made.” Jon cleared his throat, glancing away as he continued. “And I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me —” 

“I’m not uncomfortable at all!” Martin was quick to interrupt. 

Jon had to look at him then, raising a brow. “I don’t need my abilities to know that’s a lie.” 

“It’s not —!” Martin stopped, staring at Jon for a moment before sighing and closing his eyes. “Okay, fine, maybe I’m a little… I mean, I wouldn’t say I’m uncomfortable? Just, um…” 

“Nervous?” Jon tried to help him out. 

“No, no, more...” 

“Scared?” 

“ _ Christ _ , no!” 

“Skittish?” 

Martin stopped, nodding as he decided that was as close as he’d get without betraying too much. “Sure, let’s go with that.” 

“Well, I’m sorry.” Jon looked into his cup then, his tone becoming softer as he spoke next. “I promise that you don’t have anything to worry about. I would never impose myself on anyone like that, especially not you.” 

For a brief moment Martin felt insulted, but Jon’s tone made it clear that he meant it as some kind of compliment. Or, at least, he didn’t mean anything negative with his words. “I know, Jon.” 

“Mm.” Jon looked back up at him then, a small smile on his face. “I do want to say I was rather impressed with your composure back there. I think if any of that had been said last year, you would have turned invisible for the rest of the night.” 

“Hey!” Martin was sure his cheeks were bright red again as he pouted at his boss. “ _ That _ I find to be completely uncalled for.” 

“I’m sorry.” Jon chuckled a little, shaking his head. “I meant it genuinely. Controlling our abilities is a lifelong endeavor, you know?” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Martin took a sip of his own cider, his stomach fluttering more from the soft smile on Jon’s face than his drink. “I am trying to be a better role model for the kids. Invisibility can be hard for students that already don’t feel seen enough.” 

“Mm.” Jon nodded in agreement. “And it can feel like too much power to those who wish to abuse it.” 

“Exactly.” Martin sighed, closing his eyes as he complained, “We have another student that’s able to turn outside objects invisible now, by the way. Carlita’s her name, and she’s unfortunately getting a kick out of turning anyone who gets too close to her invisible. She calls it ‘banishing’ them.” 

“Mm, that’s a little concerning.” Jon frowned, raising a brow at Martin. “Maybe we should have her see the counselor?” 

“Yeah, I was gonna talk with her about it when school starts up again.” 

“Excellent.” Jon nodded his approval. “You’ve really been on top of things these past couple years.” 

Martin lowered his drink to pout at him again. “I wasn’t  _ that _ incompetent the first year.” 

“Martin, you looked ready to burst into tears every time I saw you.” 

“Well…!” Martin tried to think of something to defend himself, but he couldn’t. That first year really had been awful. The second wasn’t even that much better, if he was being honest, but he was always improving. That counted for something, right? 

“Don’t feel too bad,” Jon tried consoling him, even laying a gentle hand on Martin’s shoulder. “The first year can be stressful. I, apparently, was much too ‘scary’ and ‘intimidating’ when I started.” 

Martin snorted, quickly covering his mouth to try and hold in his laughter. “I could see it.” 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Jon asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. 

“Seriously?” Martin raised a brow at him, thankfully still smiling as he explained, “If I looked ready to cry every time you saw me, then  _ you _ looked ready to snap at any moment.” 

Jon opened his mouth to argue, but this wasn’t the first time he’s been told something similar. Instead he sighed and took a sip of his drink. “Fair enough.” 

They stood in silence for a few moments, both of them glad that the game from earlier hadn’t caused too much damage to their friendship. And if either of them felt just a little disappointed that nothing further was developing, well, that was no one’s business but their own. 

“You must have all sorts of problem students in your individual studies,” Martin spoke up, looking at Jon curiously. “I mean, mind reading? I bet every one of them wants to abuse that.” 

“You’d be surprised,” Jon replied, glancing up at the stars. “The first few lessons consist of learning how to turn the ability off, just to be able to get some peace and quiet. It can be very overwhelming, hearing a whole room filled with thoughts.” 

“Huh.” Martin leaned over the balcony railing, staring out into the forest that surrounded the academy. “I guess I didn’t think of it that way.” 

Jon hummed, turning so he could rest his back against the railing and more easily glance at Martin. “Thoughts are so nuanced. Some people think mainly in pictures, some in voice — don’t even get me started on the subconscious.” 

“I won’t.” Martin laughed, shaking his head a little. “I don’t think I envy you much.” 

Jon smiled softly, taking a sip of his drink before adding, “There are definitely those students that want to abuse the mind reading. After all, we have them take their tests in little, blocked-off rooms just to ensure there’s no cheating going on. But most of them understand the privacy issue of it, I think.” 

“Mm.” Martin paused, creasing his brows together as he asked, “Does keeping them in blocked-off rooms even work? I mean, you’re able to read someone that’s on the other side of the school.” 

“True, but I’ve had many years of practice. And not everyone’s abilities will become so… widespread.” 

“Oh, you’re special, then?” Martin had to tease. 

“Very much so, yes,” Jon replied, grinning back at him. “And like you’re one to talk? You have two gifts as well.” 

Martin scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Ah right, right — I can turn invisible  _ and _ levitate an inch off the ground. How special.” 

“It is,” Jon insisted, his free hand resting on his hip as he stared into Martin’s eyes. “To discover a new power at our age? I think that’s quite remarkable, and I’m sure you’ll be able to go higher with practice. I wouldn’t have suggested you take on some of the flight students if I thought otherwise.” 

Martin hoped that Jon would think it was just the alcohol that was making him blush. He smiled warmly at Jon for a moment before turning his gaze to the sky, his stomach fluttering pleasantly. “Thanks, Jon.” 

“You’re very welcome.” 

“Still,” Martin said after a moment, taking a sip of his drink. “I’ve got nothing on  _ compulsion _ . Christ, I can’t imagine trying to educate a student with that gift.” 

Jon actually laughed quite loudly at that, ducking his head as his shoulders still shook with his laughter. “Yes, let’s just say I was a… difficult child.” 

“No.” Martin’s eyes widened at this new, scandalous information. “Jonathan Sims, a problem student? What, did you have detentions every week?” 

“Mm, every other.” 

“ _ Get out _ .” 

“What can I say?” Jon was clearly enjoying himself as he held his cup to grinning lips. “I suppose I’m a bit of a bad boy.” 

Martin burst into laughter then, covering his mouth as he began to snort. “Oh my  _ god _ .” 

Jonathan joined him in laughing, though he tried to quiet it by biting down at the edge of his cup even as he kept grinning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really enjoying writing these two idiots.


	3. Christmas Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like Christmas love confessions to get you in the holiday spirit.

Some of the Academy staff thought it was ridiculous to have a smaller end-of-the-semester party so close to the much more grand Christmas Gala the school  _ also _ liked to host for the faculty. Timothy Stoker was not one of these people. He relished in the back-to-back celebrations and shopping for the perfect outfit for the night, and was quick to drag any friends he could into joining him. 

This year, however, rallying his friends to come shopping with him held a dual purpose. 

“I can’t believe that nothing happened after the office party,” Tim was complaining quietly to Melanie as they searched through the dresses hanging in the clearance section. “I mean,  _ come on _ — they talked with each other on that balcony for the rest of the night! I thought for sure they’d kiss or  _ something _ .” 

“I know, right?” Melanie glanced around, making sure Jon was out of earshot with Georgie as they looked through a different rack of dresses. “It. Is.  _ Infuriating _ .” 

Tim sighed, shaking his head and roughly shoving a few dresses aside. “We have to get them together this time. I can’t take any more of the ‘will-they-won’t-they’ tension!” 

“Well, that’s why we’re here,” Melanie reminded him of his own plan. “To convince Jon to grow a spine and ask him out already.” 

“Or maybe I’ll just  _ tell him _ how Martin —” 

“You can’t do that!” Melanie slapped his hand. “We can’t just  _ break _ Martin’s trust!” 

“Ugh, fine.” Tim shook his head, pulling out a red, A-line dress that had a draping sweetheart neckline and long, golden sleeves that hung halfway off the shoulders. The fabric was also cinched tight around the middle with a golden trim before flaring out into a full skirt. “Ooh, I think you’d look great in this.” 

“Really?” Melanie took the dress from him, looking it over briefly before calling out to her girlfriend. “Georgie! I found one!” 

“Great!” Georgie came over carrying a few dresses of her own to try on, Jon following behind. “Let’s find a changing room then.” 

“You only found one?” Jon seemed surprised. 

“She has impossibly high standards,” Tim cut in right before she elbowed him in the gut. 

“Let’s leave the boys to wait for us.” Melanie took Georgie’s hand, leading her off. “Give them some time to gossip!” 

“Ooh, yes!” Tim wrapped an arm around Jon’s shoulders, pulling him close for a side-hug as he grinned. “I bet you know all the goings-on with that power of yours.” 

Jon huffed and tried to push Tim off of him. Unfortunately, he was using some of his enhanced strength to keep his arm right where it was. “I only use my gift if the students are in danger, or to answer questions. You know that.” 

“Aw, come on!” Tim was having fun practically dragging Jon with him as they followed the girls. “You’re telling me you don’t  _ ever _ look inside someone’s head for fun? No one has that much willpower.” 

“I would rather have my professors  _ trust _ me, thank you.” 

Tim scoffed, squeezing Jon once before finally letting him go. “You really are no fun, are you?” 

Jon sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I knew I shouldn’t have come shopping with you.” 

“Yeah.” Tim grinned, teasing easily, “But you just couldn’t resist when I said that Martin would be joining us.” 

Jon tensed up, lifting his head just to glare at him. “Which turned out to be a lie anyway.” 

“Whoops!” Tim shrugged, chuckling a bit. “Not my fault that the rest of them wanted to check out a different store.” 

Jon gave a weary sigh, looking ahead just in time to see Georgie and Melanie disappear into the changing area. “I didn’t come here just for Martin,” his tone was far too defensive. “I do appreciate your company, and I do actually need a new suit. My usual one is losing its color.” 

“Mmhm.” Tim nodded, still grinning as he pointed out, “The way you said that makes it sound like Martin was a  _ big _ factor in you deciding to come, though.” 

Jon simply glared at him, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned his back against one of the store pillars. “Would all of you stop that? All you’re doing is making us uncomfortable. I’m surprised Martin even wants me as a friend at this point.” 

“Oh, come on, boss,” Tim rolled his head along with his eyes before shaking his hands in frustration at Jon. “The tension between you two is  _ palpable _ .” 

“Don’t be so crude.” 

“Everyone can see it!” Tim insisted. “You’re the only one that’s in denial about it.” 

Jon sighed again and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the pillar. “Give it a rest, Tim.” 

Tim rolled his eyes, feeling more and more frustrated with each passing second. Oh how he’d love to just blurt out that he  _ knows _ Martin likes him, but Jon would probably just shrug that right off anyway. Ugh, if only Jon would use those fancy “knowing” powers with Martin, then maybe they’d actually get somewhere. Maybe he could trick Jon into looking? No, no, Melanie was right — he shouldn’t just sell Martin out like that. 

“What’s the  _ worst _ that could happen if you ask Martin out?” 

“Oh, let’s see.” Jon didn’t even bother to open his eyes. “If he doesn’t like me that way, he might still feel pressured to go on a date purely because of my position over him. Or, worse, he reverts back to the timid man who was terrified of me when we first met.” 

“Ooookaaaay,” Tim was trying very hard not to shake Jon by the shoulders right now. “But what if he  _ likes you back? _ ” 

“Tim, please. This is a pointless conversation and you know it.” 

All right, screw it. Trickery it was. 

“You know, you’re right.” Tim sighed, casually stretching out his arms as he changed topics. “Sorry, we’ll talk about something else. Actually, I  _ do _ have some questions that I’d like your insight on.” 

“Oh?” Jon opened his eyes, raising a brow at him. “And what are they?” 

“Well,” Tim grinned, starting off with a joke to ease some of Jon’s clearly rattled nerves. “Can all your worldly knowledge tell me where skittles come from?” 

Jon just stared back at him with tired eyes, his tone as dry as the desert as he said, “From the rainbow.”

“I knew it!” Tim beamed at him. “All right all right, serious question now — what dress shirt would give me the best chance at scoring a date?” 

Jon took a moment to answer this one, no doubt using his gift. Tim tried not to grin too wide. “Hm… statistically, a shimmering purple button-up would bring you the most attention. Though I can’t guarantee anything.” 

“I know, I know — the future’s hard to see. Still, purple, I’ll remember that!” Tim pretended to think for a moment. “Am I allergic to anything?” 

Jon had a small smile on his face as he enlightened Tim, “You’re lactose intolerant, actually.” 

Tim stopped, actually surprised by that one. “You know, that would explain a  _ lot _ .” 

“Oh, does it?” Jon chuckled, closing his eyes. “Anymore questions?” 

“Ah, just one more.” Tim really, really hoped this worked. “Who has a crush on you?” 

“Mar—” Jon cut himself off halfway through, his eyes flying open while his cheeks began to turn much darker than before. 

“Oh?” Tim smirked, loving the look of utter shock on Jon’s face. “What was that? Didn’t quite hear it.” 

“All right boys!” Melanie and Georgie emerged from the changing area, modeling off the dresses they’d picked out. They looked rather nice, Melanie in red and Georgie in gold. They both stopped to pose as Melanie continued, “What do you think?” 

“You look stunning, girls,” Tim replied, unable to stop grinning. “Don’t they look beautiful, Jon?” 

Jon, it seemed, was too busy short-circuiting to answer. 

“Jon?” Georgie creased her brows at him, ducking down a little so she could look him in the eyes. “Are you okay?” 

“What?” Jon’s entire body jolted, blinking rapidly as he tried to remember where he was. “Oh, oh — yes, I’m fine. That’s a wonderful dress, Georgie.” 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Melanie joked, raising a brow at him. 

“No ghost here!” Tim sang. “Just a much-needed revelation.” 

Georgie gasped, exchanging a look with Melanie before looking back at Tim. “Wait, what… what  _ exactly _ do you mean?” 

“Nothing,” Jon interrupted before Tim could say anymore. “He means nothing. I’m — I just remembered that I have something to do at home. I’ll see you all tonight.” He began to walk away without another word, so of course Georgie and Melanie turned right around to Tim. 

“Is he finally accepting it?” Georgie clasped her hands together, clearly full of hope. “Is he going to ask him out?” 

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Tim chuckled a little, grinning. “But he at least accepts that Martin likes him now.” 

“How in the  _ world _ did you manage that?” Melanie gawked. “We were gone for five minutes!” 

“I’ll never tell.” Tim pretended to zip his lips closed. He really didn’t want to be lectured for ‘breaking trust’ or ‘going about this the wrong way.’ The ends would justify the means this time, surely! 

* * *

“Martin, no offense, but you are  _ blind _ if you can’t see that Jon likes you.” 

“Basira, please.” Martin was starting to feel frustrated as he focused on finding a new tie for the night. “I thought we were shopping, not gossiping?” 

“Can we really call this gossip?” Sasha asked, leaning against the little open-cabinet that held a variety of quirky ties. “I mean, that man  _ only _ drinks the tea  _ you _ make in the teacher’s lounge. If that doesn’t say ‘I'm interested’ then I don’t know what does.” 

“I’m sure he doesn’t actually pay attention to  _ who _ makes the tea,” Martin tried to say, avoiding looking at his three supposed friends right then. 

“Oh, yeah,” Daisy nodded, her face betraying no emotion. “It’s just an accident that he dumps out any tea that isn’t made by you.” 

“You’re exaggerating, I’m sure —” 

Basira interrupted with a groan, shaking her head as she snapped, “He is  _ constantly _ checking up on how you and your students are doing! He doesn’t do that with any of us.” 

“I just have a lot of troublemakers this year.” 

“Right. And that’s why he derails his whole meeting if you have a question.” 

“He answers other peoples questions, too!” 

Basira seemed to have enough, so Sasha took over. “What about how he always asks you if you want anything when he goes out for lunch?” 

“I… I pay him back for those.” 

“He’s been smiling  _ so much more _ after you and him became better friends.” 

The tie Martin had been holding slipped through his fingers and back into the cabinet as he stammered, “W-well, that’s, that could be from a number of —” 

“Not to mention he usually only comes out with us if we say you’re coming,” Daisy interrupted. “Like today. He didn’t want to come shopping until Tim dropped your name.” 

Martin felt rather small all of a sudden. He looked between the three girls, who were all staring at him with far too much intensity. “Well, he… I… I don’t know!” Martin groaned, pushing his glasses to his forehead so he could press his cool hand against his warm face. “Look, of course I noticed those things, I’m not an idiot. But I don’t want to get my hopes up, okay? Those are all things you’d do for a friend, too, you know.” 

“I’m gonna hurt him,” Basira muttered not-so-quietly under her breath. Daisy patted her back consolingly. 

“What’s wrong with just staying friends?” Martin asked, crossing his arms as he frowned at them. “Look, if anything between us is going to happen, then it will come around naturally. We don’t need your, your  _ schemes _ .” 

“I really think you do, though,” Sasha argued, sighing in dismay. “Come on, you both clearly like each other. Take a shot!” 

“Absolutely not.” Martin shook his head, his heart nervously skipping a few beats just at the thought of asking Jon out. “I don’t want to ruin what we have, okay? Now I’d appreciate it if you all would  _ drop it _ .” 

“Would it really be ruined, you think?” Daisy asked, locking eyes with an increasingly exasperated Martin. “Let’s imagine for a moment that Jon doesn’t want to date you. I think he’d still want your friendship, just like how he still likes having Georgie around. Sure, things might be awkward for awhile, but you could get right back to where you are now, only you’d feel better knowing you took a chance.” 

Daisy and Martin engaged in a mini staring contest, Martin tapping his foot against the tile as he thought over her words. Deep down he knew that was true. Or, at least, he liked to hope that his current friendship with Jon was able to handle some awkwardness. They fared well after that stupid truth or dare game a couple weeks ago, right? 

“I’ll think about it,” Martin promised softly, glancing down. “I’m not going to do anything tonight, though.” 

The three girls couldn’t hide some of their disappointment, but they at least seemed satisfied. 

“Better than nothing,” Basira shrugged. 

“It makes sense,” Sasha brightened. “Tonight you can just pay attention to how Jon looks at you then.” 

“Please stop talking,” Martin requested quietly, steadfastly turning back to the row of ties in front of him. “Now, which one should I get — the one with candy canes, or the one with skull wreaths?” 

* * *

The Magnus Academy ballroom was impressive enough when it wasn’t decorated, what with its marble flooring, high painted ceilings, tall windows, and even a skylight. It was especially beautiful now, with silver and gold garlands hanging on the walls, and deep blue or red centerpieces on each of the eight-seater round tables. A large, deep green Christmas tree sat stark in the middle, adorned with gold stars and multicolored ornaments that the teachers put on themselves. 

Once Martin entered the room he felt his breath taken away. This was the fourth “gala” he’d been to at the school, and yet each time he was surprised at just how fancy they made this event. He didn’t really understand why; you’d think the celebrations and accolades should come at the end of the school year? Maybe this was just their way of keeping spirits high during the colder months. 

“The others should be here soon,” Sasha said, glancing at her watch. She wore a tight-fitting, silver dress that flowed down past her legs, with a knee-length slit on the left and a deep-V neckline held by spaghetti straps. She held a red clutch in her other hand, to match with the red stilettos and shawl she also had on. “Let’s go snag our table.” 

“Do you think Tim will try to get people to dance again?” 

“Oh, most definitely.” Sasha snorted. “He’ll try to start a conga line and Jon will pull him away to talk about ‘proper places and times’ or whatever.” 

“Better him than Elias,” Martin replied, shivering lightly. “Unlike Jon,  _ he _ has no qualms about going through your mind whenever.” 

“Is that true?” Sasha asked, frowning. “I find that hard to believe.” 

“I know it’s true!” Martin huffed, already feeling too hot and needing to pull at his tie. “Because for my first year Elias would just  _ happen _ to show up any time I was about to let a kid off with a warning, and he demanded I give them a proper punishment.” 

Sasha snorted and covered her mouth as they reached a table that was closer to the walls than the center of the room. “Maybe you were just unlucky?” 

“ _ Every time _ , Sasha?” Martin shook his head, leaning his arms on a chair since he didn’t feel like sitting yet. “He was definitely in my head.” 

“Some people say you can feel it when a psychic pokes in your head though,” Sasha argued, taking a seat and already kicking off her shoes. “So, did you feel anything?” 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Martin sighed, shaking his head. “I was more focused on the kid than how my head felt, you know? But anyway, want me to get you some water?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Martin nodded before heading over to the drinks table. There were several large liquid dispensers, most containing ice water but a few held lemonade and other juices. He couldn’t stop thinking about Elias, now becoming paranoid that their “beloved” principal was watching him and would appear at any moment for a chat. He kept glancing over at the entrance just to make sure he wouldn’t be surprised, but thankfully all he saw was Jon arriving with Georgie and Melanie. Each of them looked stunning, of course, but Martin found his eyes drawn to Jon’s hair, since he looked far too handsome with his dark locks held back in a loose french braid. 

He brightened and headed over, a water in each hand as he called for his attention. “Jon! This way — Sasha’s snagged a table for us.” 

“Oh.” Jon seemed startled to see him, his eyes glancing away as if he were thinking about something else entirely. “Yes, thank you.” 

“They bring out anything stronger than water yet?” Melanie asked.

Georgie chuckled and gently reminded her, “They’ll bring it out with the appetizers, dear.” 

“Oh, right.” Melanie shook her head. “A damn shame. Well, water will have to do for now.” She took Georgie’s hand before the two of them went to get drinks, and Martin just chuckled as he watched them. 

“Georgie drove, I hope?” he joked, looking back at Jon. 

“Hm?” he was still avoiding Martin’s gaze as he talked. “Oh, yes, of course she did.” 

“You okay?” Martin asked, creasing his brows together. He looked Jon over then, exclaiming in surprise, “Did you end up not buying anything? That’s your usual suit, isn’t it?” 

“Ah, no, I had to leave early, sadly,” Jon replied, his hands automatically reaching up to make sure his red and green plaid tie was fastened properly. His eyes flickered to Martin’s before looking away again, his voice much more quiet as he said, “I like your new tie, though.” 

“Thanks.” Martin brightened, looking down at the dark green fabric that held a striped pattern of wreaths with white skulls and red poinsettias. “It’s Christmasy enough, right?” 

“I think so.” Jon nodded, looking around the room then. “So, Sasha is —?” 

“Ah, right this way!” Martin began to lead him, but stopped so suddenly that Jon bumped into his arm. “Wait, do you want a drink first?” 

“No, no, I’m all right.” Maybe it was in Martin’s head, but Jon seemed to have taken a rather large step away after bumping into him. And he  _ still _ wasn’t looking at him. 

“You sure? You can take these, one’s for Sasha anyway, and I can just get another one.” 

“I can get my own drink, Martin, thank you.” Jon tried to smile, but it looked far too tense. “In fact, I’ll go do just that — I’ll join you in a bit.” 

“But didn’t you want to sit down?” 

“I changed my mind. I’ll see you later.” Jon already started to walk away as he spoke, leaving Martin staring after him in confusion. 

“Something definitely happened,” Martin muttered under his breath. Ah, well, he’d wait until Jon talked to him about it. With a shrug he went back to the table, already smiling again at the sight of Sasha and Georgie showing their dresses off to each other. 

* * *

Jon already had a headache and he’d only been at this gala for little more than an hour. He knew he shouldn’t have come; every time he saw Martin he couldn’t help but think of what he now  _ knew _ thanks to Tim. He knew he was acting strange, and suspicious, especially since this was the fifth time that night he’d left to go “refresh his drink.” Really he just needed to snap himself out of staring at Martin everytime the air rang with that adorable laugh of his. 

If only he had a more sociable reputation. Then it wouldn't seem so odd if he said he was going to walk around a bit to “mingle.” That’s what galas were for, after all, to walk around with fancy horderves and expand your social circle, not sit with those you already considered friends and stare at someone you fancied all night. 

“Doing all right, boss?” Tim appeared next to him at the drinks table, a big grin on his face as he fetched himself some lemonade. “You seem a little distracted tonight.” 

Jon genuinely hoped that his glare was enough to make Tim feel at least a  _ little _ guilty. “Oh, do I? And I wonder why that might be.” 

Tim rolled his eyes. “You’re being dramatic! I thought this would be a  _ good _ thing to find out. Now you won’t have to worry about, how did you put it? Martin only going out with you because of your ‘position.’” 

“Ah, right, right.” Jon shook his head, feeling his anger bubble around his neck. “Now all I have to worry about is Martin discovering I looked into his head to find out he has feelings for me. That’s so much better.” 

“It’s not like you did it on purpose —” 

“That doesn’t matter,” Jon insisted, gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles lightened. “It’s a major violation of trust, Tim. I never  _ wanted _ to do that to him!” 

Tim froze for a second, holding his lemonade up to his lips. “... I guess I wasn’t thinking about it that way.” 

“Of course you weren’t.” Jon sighed, lowering his head into his hands. “This is a nightmare. I can’t act normal around him, but it doesn’t feel right to try and move  _ forward _ with him because I wouldn’t normally try anything if I didn’t  _ know _ it would turn out well.” 

“Then just use me as an excuse!” Tim very clearly wanted to help, but honestly Jon just felt angrier every time he spoke. “You don’t have to mention the mind reading at all, just say I told you that he likes you.” 

Jon shook his head, stating clearly, “I don’t want to lie to him.” 

“All right, then just say I tricked you! That should be fine, right? Puts most of the blame on me.” 

“But it’s still my power.” Jon ground his teeth together, a bitter taste in his mouth. “I can’t blame others for my curiosity. I have better control than that.” 

“It was an honest mistake, Jon.” Tim sighed and closed his eyes. “I’m sure Martin would understand. Christ, if you don’t make a move, I think I will.” 

Jon rolled his eyes, not taking that threat seriously at all. “I just told you I don’t feel comfortable. What ‘move’ would I even make?” 

“I’m glad you asked!” Tim grinned, eagerly digging his hand into his pocket and pulling out  _ mistletoe _ of all things. “This should do the trick.” 

“Put that away!” Jon hissed, pushing his hand back towards his pocket. “That’s not appropriate, Tim, and if I catch you trying that with anyone here —” 

“Relax!” Tim rolled his eyes. “I didn’t bring it for me, I brought it for  _ you _ . To help kickstart your romance.” 

Jon groaned again and covered his eyes with his hand. “You are the worst friend.” 

“Right back at ya,” Tim replied, not sounding upset at all. “I wish you’d just trust me on this. It will go well!” 

“Oh?” Jon lowered his hand just to glare at him again. “And what would you do if that ends up being a lie?” 

“I’ll cross that bridge  _ if _ we get there.” Tim rolled his eyes. He shoved the mistletoe in Jon’s pocket despite his protests and gave him a wink. “How about this — you go out into the courtyard, I’ll tell Martin you want him to join you, and then the magic happens.” 

Jon felt the anger at his throat turning into embarrassed steam rising into his cheeks. “Do  _ not _ —” 

“I’ll go tell him!” Tim was already walking away, waving him off with another wink. “You better get outside, boss!” 

“Tim!” Jon hissed after him, but of course nothing was going to stop him and his ridiculous plans. He resisted the urge to scream by digging his hand into his hair, and then swearing under his breath when he realized he couldn’t run his hands through his hair because Georgie had  _ insisted _ on braiding it. Instead he dug his fingers into his scalp and took a deep breath, grabbed his drink, and headed to the stone courtyard. 

Once outside he actually welcomed the chill seeping into his bones, noticing with a sardonic sense of amusement that it was just beginning to snow. How romantic. He took another deep breath, taking his hand out of his hair and hoping his braid wasn’t too messy. Not that it mattered, because he was  _ not _ going to do anything like what Tim was expecting. He’d just make something up, maybe ask Martin if he’d decided whether to adopt a dog, a cat, or that pair of rabbits he’d found. Yes, that was definitely an important conversation that required the courtyard to discuss. 

He tensed when he heard footsteps nearby, and turning around he wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or even more nervous at the sight of a clearly confused Martin heading towards him. 

“Hey, Jon,” he greeted easily enough, waving once. “Tim said you wanted to talk to me?” 

“Yes, I know.” Jon sighed, once again reaching up to run his fingers through his hair and becoming frustrated when he felt the twisted strands stopping him. 

Martin laughed a little, smiling a bit more as he teased, “Sasha said that braid wouldn’t stay in your hair long. You should just take it out if it’s bothering you.” 

“Mm.” Jon sighed and handed Martin his drink so he could take out the band and untwist his hair. “Georgie will be mad, but I can’t bring myself to care right now.” 

Martin laughed a bit more, and Jon could feel his heart physically ache. This entire situation was completely unfair. “I could braid it for you again,” Martin offered. “But loosely? So you can run your fingers through the top at least.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I know.” Martin shrugged, catching Jon’s eyes before assuring quietly, “I want to.” 

Oh, would you look at that. Jon stopped breathing. 

He swallowed to try and reset himself, turning his head away as he whispered, “Well, I won’t say no to such a kind offer.” He held the hairtie out to Martin, exchanging it for his drink before turning his back to him. Maybe this was better; at least now he didn’t have to look at those bright eyes and adorable cheeks. No, now he just had to try and not melt when warm fingers began running themselves through his hair, getting rid of any tangles before setting to work with a low and loose fishtail braid. This was fine, this was better. His heart seemed to think so, what with how fast it was beating. 

“Sooo,” Martin drawled as he worked with Jon’s hair. “Is there something you wanted to talk with me about?” 

“Oh, right.” Jon swallowed again, much too quiet as he asked, “Did you ever decide what animal you wanted?” 

“Why would you ask me that?” Martin paused for a moment as he groaned. “It’s already enough pressure, I don’t need you adding to it!” 

“Sorry.” Jon couldn’t help but laugh, crossing his arms as he leaned into Martin’s hands. “I am curious though. I still don’t understand your animal qualifications.” 

“It’s simple,” Martin insisted, expertly twisting Jon’s hair. “If I’m getting a dog, then I’d want it to be big and fluffy, obviously, preferably smothering me in my sleep. If I get a cat, I’d want it to be very long with short, soft hair, so it can fill up my lap and let me pet it while I grade papers. And if I get a pair of rabbits — which you have to get a pair, you see, or they could get lonely — then I’d want them to be small, little things that hop around and wiggle their noses and eat from my hands and make me smile when I see them.” 

“See, that’s confusing,” Jon argued back, shaking his head just light enough to get the message across, but not mess up the forming braid. “You have such conflicting animal needs. If you got a cat, would you not feel sorry that you didn’t decide on a dog that suffocates you —” 

“Smothers, Jon. There is a difference.” 

“— and if you got the rabbits, then wouldn’t you long to have a cat in your lap?” 

“Well, that’s the thing, right?” Martin hummed. “Each animal is different, so I’d expect different things from them. And that’s why I’m taking so long to deliberate, to make sure I can love them well and not wish for a different animal.” 

“Mm.” Jon closed his eyes, smiling softly. “I suppose that makes sense.” 

They stood in comfortable silence, Martin finishing his hair as snowflakes gently fell and melted as soon as they touched them. This was nice, and comfortable, and a part of Jon was adamant in telling him that he could have moments like this all the time if he’d only act on what he knew. 

But it didn’t  _ feel _ right, and now it never would. It wouldn’t feel right to ask him out now, just because he  _ knew _ , and not to mention the fact that he’d have to tell Martin what happened eventually because he didn’t want to hide anything from him. But it also didn’t feel right to just continue on as if he’d never learned anything, if only because now he felt incredibly nervous around him. 

“There we go.” Martin tugged loosely on the finished braid to make sure it would hold. “All done. What do you think?” 

“One way to find out.” Jon brought his fingers up, pleasantly surprised to find he could run them through till the base of his head before feeling the braid. “It’s… perfect, actually.” 

“Really?” Martin sounded much too pleased, and when Jon turned around his heart skipped a beat at just how bright his smile was. “I’m glad you like it.” 

Jon tried to smile back, but it felt awkward to him. He swallowed and shoved his hand into his pocket, quickly pulling it out again when he felt that blasted mistletoe Tim had shoved inside. 

“Are you okay?” Martin asked for probably the eighth time that night, creasing his brows together as he looked him up and down. “You’ve been really weird.” 

“I know.” Jon chuckled a little at himself, bringing a hand up to press his forehead into. “Believe me, I know.” 

“So, what’s going on?” Martin asked, ever patient as always. “You know I’ll listen.” 

Jon clenched his teeth lightly, keeping his hand up for a moment so he could think without those soft, green eyes staring him down. Maybe the only way to rectify this whole situation was to simply lay himself bare. 

With a deep breath he lowered his hand, looking up into Martin’s eyes and forcing himself to say something before he could overthink it. “There’s mistletoe in my pocket.” 

Martin just stared back at him, and Jon was having quite a difficult time reading any sort of emotion from him right then. “... O… kay?” 

“Tim gave it to me,” Jon continued, already regretting how he was starting this. But he had to keep moving now. “As a way to, ah, make a move? Which is ridiculous, obviously, because I find the whole concept of mistletoe to be deplorable. I mean, we spend the rest of the year talking about consent and then all of a sudden Christmas comes around and apparently it’s perfectly fine to kiss strangers for no good reason —” 

“Jon,” Martin interrupted, the corners of his mouth upturned just a little and one of his eyebrows raised. “Is there a point?” 

“Yes, yes.” Jon took another breath, gripping his drink tightly in both hands. His eyes flickered nervously between Martin’s face and his tie before he finally settled on looking into his eyes as he whispered, “The point is that I’ve been nervous all night because I was trying to think of the best way to confess. Or if I even should at all, really.” 

They stared at each other for far too long, in Jon’s opinion. And if he didn’t know otherwise, then Martin’s blank expression would make him think that he was trying very hard to find a polite way to turn him down. Actually, a part of him still thought that the longer Martin just  _ stared _ at him. 

“Are you going to say anything?” Jon asked, his frazzled nerves making him laugh softly halfway through. 

“What?” Martin’s entire body jolted, heat rushing into his cheeks as he stammered, “Sorry, it’s just—just. Confess, what, exactly?” 

“Well, ah.” Jon laughed at himself again, feeling like an idiot. “Two things, I suppose. The first being that I really, well… like you. Very much.” This was the worst confession in the world, so Martin really should not be looking at him like he’d just cited the most eloquent monologue he’d ever heard. “In a romantic sense, if that’s not clear.” 

“Well, now it’s crystal!” Martin replied, a smile slowly stretching across his face. He brought a hand up to his glasses, fixing them and glancing away as he muttered, “Just, this is… unexpected? But n-not unwelcome, because I rather—well, I really like you, too.” 

Even though Jon already knew that, his heart still fluttered at hearing Martin say it. “Do you really?” 

“Yes.” Martin rested his hand on the back of his neck, smiling warmly at Jon as he joked, “And now I can’t stop thinking about the mistletoe you have with you.” 

Jon’s stomach dropped, heat rapidly pooling in his cheeks as he simply stared at Martin. It would be so easy to kiss him right now (they both wanted to, after all), but, no, it wouldn’t feel right yet. “Before that,” Jon cleared his throat, staring into his drink. “There’s something else I should tell you.” 

“Something else?” Martin laughed a little. “Don’t tell me, one of the others stole one of my love poems and showed it to you?” 

“... What?” Jon looked back up in surprise, trying his best not to smile but failing immensely. “You write poems about me?” 

“... Nooooo,” Martin drawled again, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red as he turned his head away. “I didn’t say that! Anyway, you were —“

“I’m sure it’s good poetry. Could I read them sometime?” 

“A bit hard to read something that doesn’t exist, isn’t it?” 

Jon laughed, probably a bit too loudly for the present moment, but he couldn’t help it as he dropped his head into his hand. “We’ve just confessed to each other and yet I can’t read your love poems?” 

“It’s  _ embarrassing!” _ Martin insisted. “And, again, they don’t exist.” 

“Ah, right, that’s what we’re going with.” Jon shook his head, looking back up at him with a grin. “I suppose I’ll choose to believe you.” 

“Good.” Martin crossed his arms, holding his head high as he closed his eyes. “You better.” 

Jon bit down on his lip to keep from laughing again. He shouldn’t be finding this so amusing, especially since he had something more serious to disclose, but damn it all if now he didn’t want to read every word of Martin’s poetry. 

“ _ Anyway _ ,” Martin cut in again, deflating a little as he gave Jon a sheepish smile. “What did you want to tell me?” 

“Yes, um.” Jon took a breath, feeling the cold once more as he stared into those hopeful eyes. “Well, I did have some… I probably wouldn’t have said anything to you tonight if I didn’t already, ah,  _ know _ it would turn out well.” 

Martin creased his brows at him, not really understanding. “What, like… you mean I wasn’t as good at hiding it as I thought?” 

“No, no, it’s…” Jon felt all of his insides squeezing painfully inside him. This was definitely going to ruin the moment. He wouldn’t blame Martin if he slapped him after this. “Earlier today, I accid—no, I… I used my abilities to know how you felt.” 

Martin’s eyes widened immediately, looking more shocked than angry. Or maybe Jon was just being hopeful. “What? But…  _ why? _ ” Martin covered his mouth with his hand, looking away as he creased his brows. “You don’t usually do that.” 

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Jon stepped closer, reaching out to touch his shoulder before pulling back and just gripping his cup tight again. “I promise I won’t do it again—I  _ haven’t _ done it, until today, I… I’m sorry.” 

“That still doesn’t tell me why?” 

“Right, right.” Jon sighed, staring down into his cup again, watching a couple snowflakes melt into his drink before explaining, “While I was out shopping with the others, Tim started trying to convince me to ask you out, which I didn’t want to do because… well, I suppose the same reason you didn’t want to? That’s not important—anyway, Tim stopped doing that and just started asking me random questions instead, wanting me to use my abilities to answer them. And of course I enjoy doing that because honestly I don’t get to use it enough anymore, but then he asked me, ‘who has a crush on you?’ and… I saw you.” He glanced up at Martin, feeling like he was sinking as he saw the small frown on his face. “And I’m not saying this to try and excuse my actions, because it’s my power and I should have screened his questions instead of just letting the knowledge fill me up, but… that’s how it happened.” 

They stared into each others’ eyes for a long moment, Jon gripping his cup so tight he wondered if it’d break, and Martin just staring him down with that little frown and slight crease to his brows. 

Jon jumped out of his skin when Martin took a breath, rubbing a hand up his face and pushing his glasses to his forehead in the process. “Okay, I guess that makes sense? I’m not really sure what to do with that. I mean, obviously I’m not happy about it? But it genuinely seems like a mistake, and, I don’t know.” He sighed, fixing his glasses as he looked back into Jon’s eyes. “A part of me is just relieved that’s all you saw. Because, let’s be honest for a moment, neither of us were really doing a great job at hiding how we felt.” 

Jon laughed weakly, wrapping his arms around himself. He still felt incredibly small, and colder than ever now. “You’ve got me there.” 

Martin sighed again, closing his eyes. “I’m not… mad, if you’re worried about that. I do think I’ll need some time to process it, though.” 

“Of course. Take all the time you need.” 

“Thank you.” Martin opened his eyes, smiling softly at him. “Because I still really,” he placed a hand on Jon’s shoulder, filling him with way too much warmth from such a simple touch. “ _ Really _ like you.” 

“Ah,” Jon spoke before he really knew what to say, feeling rather weightless as he took in Martin’s body heat and stared into those shining green eyes. He leaned in just a bit closer, lifting his hand to rest on Martin’s shoulder in turn. “I feel the same.” 

Martin chuckled a little, gently pressing his forehead against Jon’s. “Good,” he whispered, and it sounded like he wanted to say more, but decided to just stay quiet and enjoy the moment instead. And Jon really didn’t mind as he closed his eyes and leaned into him, the winter chill only a distant thought in his mind. 

* * *

“See?!” Tim was ecstatic and had no qualms about hiding it as he grinned at Sasha. “My methods worked!” 

“It was still a rotten thing to do.” Sasha shook her head. The two of them were standing by one of the tall windows that overlooked the courtyard, eating some horderves as they spied on their friends. “You’re lucky I convinced Melanie not to punch you.” 

“Yeah yeah, I know,” Tim rolled his eyes, gesturing outside to where Jon and Martin had been huddled together for the past few minutes. “But come on, they’re obviously happy.” 

“I suppose.” Sasha smiled a little as she watched them. “Do you think they’ll remember that anyone could walk over and see them at any time?” 

“Not sure.” Tim grinned at her, eyes shining with mischief. “Maybe we should remind them?” 

“Tim, no—” 

He knocked on the window without a second though, waving rapidly when Jon and Martin turned to look at him. Then he started laughing when both of them turned invisible, clearly embarrassed. 

“You’re awful!” Sasha exclaimed, even though she was laughing too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two more "chapters" of this written out, one detailing Jon's backstory and one detailing Martin's. I'll probably post those in a day or two.   
> Please consider leaving a comment in the meantime! I'd also love to hear any potential plot or other character ideas. I do know what everyone else's powers are, but I'm open to changing those if something else fits them better.


	4. First Makeout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short but sweet scene about the difficulties of making out with a mind-reader.

Jon sometimes hated his abilities, but most especially when he wasn’t able to control them. He already knew that lack of sleep and drinking too much were sure-fire ways to make it harder to keep outside knowledge out of his head, but he’d forgotten about something else that always made it harder to silence the thoughts entering his mind. Something he didn’t quite remember until Martin had come over to his flat one night for a movie marathon, which ultimately lead to them becoming entangled with each other as they indulged in the intimacy of kissing. 

It had been so easy to go from curled up by Martin’s side on the couch to laying right on top of him, running one hand through that curly red hair while the other stroked along his neck and shoulder. His own body shivered whenever Martin’s fingers dug into his hair, or brushed up and down his still-clothed back, and Jon would have been content to stay like this for hours. Martin was so warm, and he tasted like the honey-filled tea they’d made together, and the way he whispered Jon’s name every so often made him feel far more special than he had any right to. 

‘ _ This is so perfect _ ,’ he heard Martin say, and he smiled before kissing him more firmly to show he agreed, his stomach filling up with giddiness. 

_ ‘Is it too early to say I love you?’ _ Jon froze, lifting his head to stare at Martin in astonishment. He felt his blood run cold when he distinctly heard Martin say, without opening his mouth,  _ ‘Why’d he stop? Did I do something wrong?’ _

“Oh, fuck.” Jon squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as he closed off his abilities. Of course,  _ of course _ this had to happen. Why didn’t he remember something so important? 

“Jon?” Martin’s voice was filled with a nervous bewilderment. “Is everything all right? I’m sorry if I—” 

“No, no,  _ you _ did nothing wrong.” Jon pushed himself up, moving to a standing position as he ran both hands through his hair. “I let myself get carried away, I wasn’t  _ thinking _ about it—I’m so stupid.” 

“Jon.” Martin stood up as well, gently gripping his shoulder so he’d stop pacing for a moment. “Take a breath, okay? What is it?” 

Jon groaned quietly, covering his face with both hands as he took a breath, as instructed. “I’m sorry, Martin. I really didn’t mean to.” 

“Didn’t mean to do  _ what?” _

Right. He still didn’t know. “I heard what you said,” Jon muttered, opening his fingers so he could look at him. “In your head, before I… stopped.” 

Martin just stared at him, probably rewinding the past minute in his head until his eyes widened. He took his hand off Jon, using it to cover his mouth instead as he looked away, cheeks flushing. “Oh, god.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jon repeated again, because he truly was. It’d just been a very long time since he’d been with someone like this. “I forgot that it’s harder to control the mind-reading when I’m, ah…” _fixated, absorbed, blinded,_ “‘in-tune' with another person. I swear I won’t any—” 

“Just,” Martin cut him off, taking his glasses off so he could rub across his entire face. “Let me… think.” He gave a loud groan as he pulled at the skin below his eyes, letting it go as he stared quite blankly at Jon. “You’re out of my head now, right?” 

“Of course.” 

“Good.” He put his glasses back on before crossing his arms and closing his eyes. He tapped his foot on the ground as he thought, and it took all of Jon’s willpower to  _ not _ read his mind at that moment. 

“Okay,” Martin spoke up again, opening his eyes but glancing away from Jon as he continued. “On one hand, yes, of course I’d prefer if you didn’t read my mind while we kiss. But on the other hand, I can’t help but feel a little, well,  _ proud _ that I can distract you so thoroughly that you can’t control yourself.” 

Jon felt like lava was pouring into his cheeks. “I, ah…” 

“And I just need to ask.” Martin rubbed at the back of his neck, voice quieting. “I mean, would you even be able to enjoy yourself if you’re so focused on not reading my mind while we kiss?” 

Jon clamped his mouth shut, shame and guilt and a touch of self-directed anger boiling in his stomach. “Honestly, not so much. I’m sure with practice I could manage it—” 

“I don’t want to be the only one enjoying myself, though,” Martin interrupted, sighing softly. “Especially if there’s no guarantee that you’d ever get to that point.” 

“I’m sorry.” Jon swallowed, his arms wrapped tight around himself. He felt cold, and small, and like such an idiot that all he wanted to do was curl up in his bed and feel sorry for himself. “We don’t have to… anymore—” 

“Wait, wait.” Martin stepped closer, cupping Jon’s cheek in his hand before staring into his eyes, a slight crease to his brows. “Let me finish. I guess, honestly, I… I don’t mind it too much. If the only time you’re in my head is when we’re making out.” 

Jon simply stared up at him, eyes wide as he wasn’t sure if he should feel more shocked or hopeful hearing that. “What?” 

“I mean, it’s definitely good to know,” Martin continued, smiling softly as he joked, “and maybe I’m lucky. I mean, doesn’t everyone wish their partner could read their mind when they’re trying to be intimate?” 

Jon couldn’t help but snort a little, his heart getting lighter and lighter the more Martin spoke. “I suppose I have heard that sentiment.” 

“Mmhm.” Martin pressed their foreheads together. “So… don’t beat yourself up, okay? And thank you for telling me right away.” 

“I…” Jon started to melt against him, lifting his hands to grip Martin’s shoulders as he whispered, “I don’t think I deserve you.” 

“Maybe you don’t,” Martin teased, poking Jon’s side just to hear him make a startled sound. “But, well, you already heard where my mind was going earlier.” 

“Right.” Jon laughed softly, glancing down briefly before catching those dazzling green eyes again. “I don’t think it’s too soon.” 

Martin brightened, prompting, “Too soon to say…?” 

Jon snorted again, grinning slightly. “Oh, you want me to say it first?” 

_ “Technically _ you already heard me say it,  _ sooo.” _

Jon rolled his eyes, rising up on the balls of his feet so he could kiss him briefly. “I love you, Martin.” 

Martin sighed softly, wrapping an arm tight around Jon’s waist just to pull him close for a longer kiss. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for this other than the fact that I adore powers getting out of control in emotional situations. Plus it's nice to have something sweet before getting into their more traumatic backstories, right?


	5. Jon's Backstory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life can be tricky growing up as a mind-reader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cw: references of child harm

“How did your powers get so ‘widespread,’ as you say?” Martin asked one day. He’d come over to Jon’s flat so the two of them could work on student ability progress reports together. Most were easy, just a quick paragraph about how the student was adjusting to their power and what they’re trying to improve, but for the problem students, well, a second pair of eyes was helpful to make sure things were worded nicely for the parents. 

“How?” Jon echoed, lowering his laptop screen before stretching his arms above his head. They were seated at his kitchen table so they’d have enough space for all of their papers. “Why do you ask?” 

“Just curious,” Martin started, tapping a finger on his own laptop as his eyes zoned out. “I was writing about how far Sharon’s come in such a short time, and how if she keeps going on like this then she might be able to perform sound disappearance, too, and it got me thinking about powers in general, and then I thought about how you were apparently a ‘bad boy’ growing up, and… yeah.” 

Jon chuckled a little, covering his grin with his hand as he leaned his elbow against the table. “Oh? So you do actually have a thing for bad boys.” 

“That is not the point of this conversation!” Martin exclaimed, pushing himself to his feet so he could begin pacing around Jon’s kitchen, busying himself with opening up the cabinets to collect tea supplies. “I’m just curious if you were always so ominously powerful, or if you just worked really hard.” 

Jon hummed again, closing his eyes as he thought back to his youth. “It was a little bit of both, honestly. I didn’t know I had compulsion until I was seventeen, but it made sense. What I thought was just simple mind-reading soon turned into… well, it felt—it  _ feels _ like I’m sitting through an entire universe of thought to find the information I want. I imagine that was because I’d had the compulsion for awhile, and just hadn’t used it verbally.” 

“Huh.” Martin was already filling up Jon’s kettle with water, putting all of his weight on one leg so he could tap the tip of his toes on the ground. “So, wait—when was the first time it felt like that?” Martin turned the water off, placing the kettle on the stove before turning to Jon with creased brows. “When did you realize what you were doing was a little more than reading minds?” 

“Oh, um.” Jon sighed, opening his eyes to frown at Martin. “That’s a bit harder to nail down.” 

“Good—we need a break anyway.” 

“You’re sure you want to hear this?” Jon straightened, running his fingers through his hair as he took a deep breath. “How I became this, well, ‘powerful’ — I’m not exactly proud of it. I know I make jokes about how I used to be, but when I get right down to it I was just an ass.” 

“What do you mean?” Martin decided to sit on the counter while the water heated, being careful not to hit his head on the cabinets above him as he hopped onto it. 

“Mm.” Jon couldn’t look at him anymore, tapping his fingers on the table as he thought. He laughed lightly at himself, muttering, “I rather think you would have despised me in secondary school, Martin. I had no qualms about going through anyone’s mind at any time. I rather enjoyed it, being privy to everyone’s deepest, darkest secrets. At least I wasn’t so terrible as to go around telling others what I knew, but… I still knew it.” 

Martin didn’t say anything at first, just staring at Jon and taking in his anxious body language. He hopped back down from the counter and came over, placing his hand over Jon’s tapping fingers before pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“Tell you what,” Martin whispered, smiling softly when Jon looked at him. “Once the tea is done we can sit on your couch, all cuddled up, and you can tell me all about it.” 

Jon’s shoulders lost some of their tension, his eyes more present as he looked at Martin. “You’re sure? Even after what I just said?” 

“Well, the way I see it,” Martin brushes his fingers through Jon’s hair, smiling more at the way Jon closes his eyes and leaned into him immediately. “How you were back then can stay in the past. What matters is who you are now, you know?” 

Jon smiled a bit more, keeping his eyes closed as he gripped Martin’s hand on the table and squeezed it. “You’re remarkable, do you know that?” 

Martin felt butterflies in his stomach from the gentle, earnest way Jon whispered those words. He laughed a little out of embarrassment, muttering, “Yes, thank you.” 

~~~ 

“I’m not really sure where to start,” Jon started, holding a mug of tea with both hands to get some warmth into his fingers. He had his back against Martin’s side, his long legs taking up the rest of the couch with Martin’s arm wrapped snugly around his waist. 

“Anywhere you want,” Martin replied, pressing a kiss to the back of Jon’s head. “Though preferably at the beginning.” 

Jon snorted, smiling against the edge of his mug as he mumbled, “Smartass.” He took a sip of his tea, more to help fill the moment with some kind of action as he decided at what point could be considered the “beginning.” 

“Do you remember when I said that the first few lessons for mind readers are about how to turn it off?” 

“Yeah. Since it can be overwhelming to read so many thoughts?” 

“Exactly.” Jon sighed, letting his head fall back and rest on Martin’s shoulder. “Well, no matter how hard I tried, I just… couldn’t. Throughout year six I tried so hard every day to silence the onslaught of thoughts entering my brain, but the most I could bring myself to manage was quieting them. At the end of the school year, I accidentally let it slip to my classmates that I actually still hear everyone all the time. I was trying to complain about it, say how loud and annoying it was, but they took it a different way. They thought that I was  _ choosing _ to listen to everyone, that I was just nosy or a snitch or something. Either way, at the beginning of year seven, I was officially being avoided since no one wants to be friends with someone who reads your every thought.” 

“Oh, Jon,” Martin squeezed him gently, nuzzling his nose against the top of Jon’s head. 

“It gets worse.” Jon sighed, waiting for Martin to lift his head again before continuing. “I tried even harder to turn it off. I requested individual lessons at every chance I could, wanting to prove to everyone that I wasn’t this awful person they thought I was. That I was  _ trying _ to give others their privacy. But it was too late for some. Even after I’d finally figured out how to switch it off, no one believed me. They thought I was just lying to get closer to them again, so I could get back to hearing all their secrets. Even those that gave me a second chance usually just wanted me to read someone’s mind for them, or help them cheat, and since I was so desperate for any kind of friendly interaction I’d tell them what I knew. Which of course didn’t help anything; it just made me seem even worse. I didn’t realize just how much everyone hated me until a few boys from year nine decided to ‘teach the nosy twerp a lesson.’” 

“What did they do?” Martin whispered, since Jon had been silent for half a minute. 

“It would be easier if I just show you.” Jon sighed, gently extracting himself from Martin’s hold. He set his mug down on his coffee table before beginning to unbutton his shirt. “I passed them after school one day. They were smoking when they saw me, and I guess they were worried I’d overheard something I shouldn’t have. Before I knew it my head was pressed against cold cement, and my shirt lifted up so they could do this.” He slipped his brown-and-white striped button up off completely, and Martin couldn’t stop himself from gasping softly. 

“No.” He swallowed, his hand lifting automatically. “Can I…?” 

“Yes, you can touch it. It doesn’t hurt anymore, it’s just scarred.” 

“Still.” Martin brushed his fingers across the burn marks between Jon’s shoulder blades, feeling rather sick in his stomach. Dozens of small, dark, raised circles lay across his skin, forming a crude outline of an eye. And still there were other circles placed randomly across the rest of his back, not contributing to the design but looking just as painful. “Christ, ninth years did this?” 

“Mm.” Jon chuckled darkly, joking, “None of them were artists, apparently.” 

“Apparently.” Martin swallowed, wrapping both arms around Jon’s waist in a hug, holding his chin over Jon’s shoulder so he could kiss his cheek. “What happened then?” 

Jon relaxed into Martin’s chest, resting his hands over Martin’s as he took a breath. “Well, after that, I didn’t really see the point in  _ not _ reading everyone’s mind, if that’s what everyone assumed I was doing anyway. And if people were just going to attack me for no reason, then I should do whatever I could to protect myself. So… I kept it on. Sure I’d turn it off every now and then to stay sane; to get some work done, or for a bit of quiet. But most of the time I had my mind wide open. I watched, I listened, I  _ judged. _ I made it clear to everyone that now I  _ was _ listening to their every thought, and that if they ever threatened me then they shouldn’t be surprised if their precious secrets got out. 

“It felt  _ incredible _ to have that much control. To have dirt on literally everyone, including the teachers? A twelve year old really shouldn't have that much power. Obviously my ability teacher was less than pleased, but it wasn’t like he could  _ make _ me turn it off. He tried to talk with me, give me ethical and empathetic reasons why I should stop listening to everyone all the time, but it was too late for me by that point. That’s why I got the detentions more than anything; I’d argue with him, sometimes yell at him. I only really tried to be ‘good’ again when he teamed up with my grandmother and mentioned it would be hard for me to get into any university if I had ‘uncontrolled special ability’ on my academic record. But I still didn’t stop listening, I just hid it better. Not that it mattered to my peers, anyway; my previous behavior had already cemented my social suicide. And I didn’t care. Part of me enjoyed the fact they were scared of me; it made me feel safer. 

“The more I used my ability, the stronger it became, and soon I could read the mind of someone in another room; hell, I could read someone that was a mile away. And if I really, really focused, I could start picking through their brain to find specific thoughts and memories. I didn’t realize this was abnormal at first, since I stopped telling my ability teacher anything beyond what I had to. I just thought it was the natural progression for mind-readers, not a combination of compulsion and mind-reading, and at age fifteen I felt incredibly grown up being able to do so much with my powers. 

“It’s really intoxicating, you know? Discovering that you can find any kind of information you want, as long as you’re willing to search for it. I started wondering just what else I could know, wondering if I could combine thoughts and memories from more than one person to get a full understanding of something. Wondering if I could pull information from a person I’ve never even seen before, since what I was looking for was knowledge rather than a singular person’s thoughts. And when I started thinking along those lines, it became progressively easier and quicker for me to know  _ anything _ if I asked myself the right questions. And, to those that were brave enough to ask me questions, I was happy to share my acquired knowledge. The teachers were less than thrilled about that. 

“Taking the GCSE’s with my reputation was a bit tricky; the proctors were all worried that I’d cheat. Which was true, but by that point I had already begun being able to sift through a universe of information at any time, so any measures they took to limit cheating were pointless. Still, I wasn’t an idiot—before taking the tests I calculated how many wrong answers I needed in order to get a B in everything. I figured that was enough to get me into a good university, and it was. I started studying psychology, mainly because I wasn’t sure what else I should be doing. I figured I’d be a useful tool for behavioral research, being able to literally pick apart the minds of our subjects. 

“It was during one of my psych classes where I met Georgie. When we first met she just confused me, but the more time we spent together the easier she was able to knock some sense into me, and helped me see that what I was doing really wasn’t ‘protecting’ me anymore, it was simply turning me into an antisocial monster. I consider it a blessing to have met her, because if I didn’t, well.” He squeezed Martin’s hands gently. “I wouldn’t be here right now.” 

* * *

_ Group projects were the bane of Jonathan Sims’ existence. He didn’t understand why professors deemed them necessary, since genuinely no one else seemed to like them either. Something about needing to collaborate and work as a team, even if your team members turn out to be absolute dickheads who simply increase stress and don’t contribute anything worthwhile.  _

_ At least for this project he only needed to worry about working with one other person, rather than two or three. And this girl, Georgie Barker, seemed competent; he’d scanned her mind during class once he found out they’d be working together, and she seemed studious and down-to-earth, thinking mostly in images rather than words. But it was obvious when she smiled at him that she must not know who he was, or rather what power he had.  _

_ Because if she did know, then she definitely wouldn’t be thinking the kinds of things she was during their first project meet-up in the library. Just imagine Jon’s surprise when a crystal clear image of Georgie shoving him (shirtless, mind you) against the nearest library wall to make out with him entered his mind.  _

_ “I’m asexual, you know,” Jon spoke up, giving her a heated glare. “And I look nothing like that.”  _

_ Georgie’s eyes widened and her thoughts scattered, the only indication that she was startled. Instead of questioning how he knew what she was thinking, she simply asked, “Are you aromantic, too?”  _

_ Now it was Jon’s turn to be surprised. He creased his brows at her, at a clear loss for words. “I don’t… really know that bit.”  _

_ “Well, how do you feel about this, then?” Georgie closed her eyes, sending him a very detailed scene of her cupping his face tenderly (immense emphasis on  _ tender _ ), before kissing his forehead.  _

_ Jon felt heat rise to his cheeks immediately. “Stop that.”  _

_ Georgie just grinned, eyes still closed as she then imagined running her fingers through his hair.  _

_ Jon shivered and covered the top of his head with his hand. “Stop!”  _

_ Georgie laughed, opening her eyes as she tilted her head at him. “I think you’d like having your hair played with. You certainly mess with it enough during class.”  _

_ Jon just stared at her, hand still on his head as he growled lowly, “We’re supposed to be  _ working. _ Not… whatever you’re doing.”  _

_ “Flirting?” Georgie raised a brow at him. “I can’t be the only one who’s ever flirted with you before. Or, rather, thought about you like that before.”  _

_ “You’re not,” Jon admitted, pulling his fingers through his hair as he took a breath. “But usually they stop after finding out I can  _ see _ what they’re thinking.”  _

_ “Where’s the fun in that?” Georgie shrugged. “Besides, if it really bothers you then you could just stop reading my mind, you know?”  _

_ “But I won’t,” Jon told her plainly, turning back to his textbook. “So if that scares you, then we don’t have to meet up in person any longer.” It was the usual offer he gave to those he had to do group projects with, not that it really held much weight with how expansive his abilities had become, but they didn’t need to know that.  _

_ “Wait,” Georgie spoke again after a moment, her thoughts filled with curious questions rather than statements of panic or fear. “Are you telling me that you really do  _ constantly _ read everyone around you? No wonder you always have a frown on your face. You’ll get wrinkles, you know.”  _

_ Jon sighed, running his fingers through his hair before stopping, starting to realize that he really did play with his hair a lot. “Yes, I do read everyone at my discretion.”  _

_ “Why? Doesn’t it give you a headache?”  _

_ “Sometimes, yes.”  _

_ “So why do it, then?”  _

_ “Because it’s just what I do, okay? If it bothers you, then like I said—”  _

_ “I prefer working in person.” Georgie shrugged again. “Besides, if I want you out of my head it seems all I have to do is imagine things like this.” To prove her point, she pictured the two of them sharing a smoothie together as they locked eyes.  _

_ Jon rolled his eyes. “How cute. But that’s not enough to get me to stop.”  _

_ “Is that a challenge?”  _

_ “I was hoping for ‘threat,’ but sure.”  _

_ “Well, take a gander at this.” Suddenly the two of them were cuddled up in a very plush-looking bed, Jon kissing her cheek.  _

_ Jon slammed his hand on the table, lowering his voice to what he hoped was an intimidating snarl. “I can do more than simply ‘read your mind,’ you know. I can search through your brain, find whatever secrets you’ve kept buried away deep inside there, or dig out your most embarrassing memories. And I’m certain you wouldn’t want anyone to discover those.”  _

_ He expected her thoughts would be filled with quiet screams of panic, or a gut-dropping fear, or something that would indicate displeasure at interacting with him again. Instead she was nothing but a ball of curiosity as she asked, “Wait, what did you just say you could do?”  _

_ “I’m not  _ repeating _ myself!”  _

_ “Okay, okay, no need to shout. We’re in a library, you know.” Jon was about to literally scream in frustration, so it was a good thing she kept talking. “Normal mind-readers can’t do that. They can only see what’s on the surface.”  _

_ “What?” Jon creased his eyebrows, confused at where this conversation had headed. “What are you talking about? I’ve been able to pick through minds since I was fifteen.”  _

_ Georgie’s eyes widened, and she thought the word “compulsion” so strongly that Jon was suddenly filled with the knowledge of a new kind of power. The power to make people tell you things, whether they wanted to or not.  _

_ “How come I’ve never heard of compulsion before?”  _

_ “Because it’s kind of new.” Georgie explained, becoming more and more excited. “It’s only been recently separated and categorized as its own power, since for the longest time it was lumped in with mind control. But it is different, isn’t it? Mind control is all about physical action, while compulsion is more about information collection. Which would make sense why you’re able to search right through a person’s brain! A mind reader with compulsion, really, that’s remarkable—and the fact that you’re able to seamlessly integrate the two? I know a few people who’d love to study you.”  _

_ “You,” Jon stopped, creasing his brows together again as she began thinking about how ‘cool’ it was to meet someone like him. “Why aren’t you scared of me?”  _

_ “Hm?” Georgie blinked at him, comparing him to a scared but otherwise harmless feral cat in her mind.  _

_ “You can talk to animals,” Jon figured out from her thoughts. “And you think of me like a cat?”  _

_ “Precisely. All hiss, but not really wanting to get your claws dirty.”  _

_ “So you think I won’t tell anyone what I find out about you.”  _

_ “Yes, that sums it up.”  _

_ “And you’re really willing to take that gamble?”  _

_ “The way I see it is if you really wanted to go telling everyone’s secrets, you’d do it already. You wouldn’t be trying to get me away from you. No, what your behavior tells me is that you just have a lot of walls up, probably out of fear. I imagine you’ve gone a very, very long time without positive social interaction, and so you’re lashing out like a terrified kitty.”  _

_ “But doesn’t it bother you a little?” Jon ignored the fact that she’d just called him a kitty, of all things. “The fact that I can know  _ anything _ about you, at any time?”  _

_ “If I’m really going to be worrying about what mind readers are seeing from my thoughts, I’d never think again,” Georgie tried to explain. “I mean, yeah, I supposed I’d prefer you weren’t such an asshole about it, but when it comes right down to it you can’t stop me from thinking. You can threaten me like you’ve been doing, and privately judge my innermost thoughts, but that’s about it. Unless you do actually want to go through with your little threats, but you’d probably find that spreading rumors is more of a hassle than it’s worth.”  _

_ Jon ground his teeth as he stared at her, brows knit completely together as he tried to figure her out. Her thoughts truly didn’t have any sense of fear in them, if anything she was just  _ amused _. It was honestly as intriguing as it was confusing. Her behavior should make her even more infuriating to him, but for the first time in five years he found himself actually enjoying another person’s company. It was an odd feeling, enough to make his stomach clench and his palms begin to sweat.  _

_ “We can get back to work if you’d like,” Georgie chuckled at him after a few moments. “But you’ll have to stop reading my mind, or you’ll find I can be a very distracted thinker.”  _

_ “Fine.” Jon scowled, shutting his ability off before turning back to his textbook for some actually quiet reading.  _

_ She must have tried to think of another “flirtatious” scene, because after a minute she chuckled and nodded. “Yep, I definitely know you’re not in my head now.” _

* * *

“It really isn’t that funny,” Jon tried to tell Martin, calmly sipping his tea as he sat on one end of the couch, leaning heavily on the armrest. He’d put his shirt back on by now, but left it unbuttoned out of laziness. 

“Yes it is!” Martin argued, laying against the back of the couch with his hands covering his face as he laughed uncontrollably. “It’s so Georgie, using your own power to annoyingly flirt with you? I should ask her for pointers.”

“Please don’t.”

“Can kitty be my new petname for you?”

“...”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You can’t call me that at work, mind you.”

Martin’s laughter turned into wheezing as he curled in on himself, flopping onto his side on the couch. Which put his head right on Jon’s lap, allowing him to turn and grin up at him with far too much mirth in his eyes. “You’re adorable.”

“Right now you’re the adorable one with that laugh of yours,” Jon countered easily, smiling softly. “Even if it is at my expense.”

Martin was still giggling as he reached up, twirling some of Jon’s hair between his fingers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. How long did it take her to befriend you, anyway?”

“Mm…” Jon closed his eyes, the light pulling on his scalp pleasantly distracting. “It only took that semester for us to become friends. It took a full year for her to get it through my skull that if people were going to hate me, then it would be because of my personality and not my power.”

Martin couldn’t help but snort at that, just grinning at Jon when he shot him a look. “Sorry.” 

Jon rolled his eyes, poking Martin’s nose before continuing. “She managed to teach me what my previous instructors never could, that listening to everyone all the time was an ethical issue, and that if I wanted to make other friends then I’d have to give them reasons to trust me. Then we dated for a brief period, which allowed me to meet her nieces and nephews. Apparently I was good at interacting with them, and she suggested I get into teaching to help students like me who were bullied; to stop them from becoming bitter and angry towards the world. She was surprised I hadn’t turned into a supervillain, actually.”

“Ooh.” Martin chuckled again, reaching up to brush the back of his fingers under Jon’s chin. “Having a supervillain for a boyfriend would be interesting. Pretty hot.” 

“You really are just trying to fluster me now, aren’t you?” Jon shooed his hand away before covering his now-warm face. Martin continuing to laugh at him really wasn’t helping anything. “I’m glad you’re so amused.” 

“I really am.” Martin sat back up, stretching his arms out a bit. “So, that’s everything then?” 

“I believe so, yes. The important parts, anyway.” 

“Well then.” Martin took Jon’s hand, squeezing it gently as he smiled at him. “Thank you for telling me.” 

Jon felt butterflies in his stomach, any tension leaving his body all at once as he simply stared into those bright green eyes. “Thank you for listening.” 

“Of course.” Martin leaned in, pressing their foreheads together with a hum. “I’m glad you’re… different, from back then. You’re right in that I probably would have avoided you in secondary school.” 

“I wouldn’t have blamed you.” Jon lifted his arms, wrapping them loosely around Martin’s neck. “I’m glad we met when we did. Even if I was apparently still intimidating.” 

“Incredibly so.” Martin chuckled, reaching between them to button up Jon’s shirt for him. “But a lot of that was because you were both my superior  _ and _ my type, which just meant that I wanted to impress you even more.” 

“Oh, really?” Jon grinned, lowering his voice to a tone he knew Martin liked. “And how would you impress me?” 

Martin fumbled with the buttons, his freckled cheeks turning a bright red as he whined, “Jon, that’s not  _ fair _ .”

“Oh, I think it’s very fair.” Jon chuckled, stealing a quick kiss so he could whisper against his lips, “Sweetheart.” 

“Oh,” Martin mumbled, abandoning the buttons completely to bury his fingers into Jon’s hair instead. “Come here, kitty,” he teased, kissing Jon firmly before he could argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! Martin's backstory is up next :)


	6. Martin's Backstory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin talks about what it's like to grow up with invisibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cw: references of child abuse (neglect)

Martin knew Jon was worried about him. It kind of surprised him, honestly, because he thought he’d been doing a great job at acting normal. He still smiled at everyone, made tea every morning, laughed at any jokes he heard, and wasn’t hiding from anyone. But he knew Jon was worried, because every time Jon looked at him he had that little crease in his brows, and if they were alone he’d touch Martin’s shoulder and ask him if he was all right. Martin would give the usual excuses; “didn’t get much sleep last night,” “just need to eat something,” “a quick walk will give me some energy back.” All things that could be true, and could actually improve his mood, but they weren’t what was actually bothering him. 

He thought he’d get over himself quick enough; get back to his “usual” self again in no time, so Jon could stop worrying. But when an entire school week passed and Jon was still looking at him like something was wrong, he felt frustrated with himself at not being able to hide it better. And then he felt a sort of relief at feeling frustrated, because that was the most that he’s  _ felt _ the past week. 

“Martin.” The two of them were walking home together when Jon decided he needed to say more. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want to talk about? I am really starting to worry about you.” 

“Don’t,” Martin advised, adjusting his satchel and trying not to frown too deeply. “I promise I’m fine.” 

Jon was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke next it was quiet and careful. “It’s okay if you’re not fine, though.” 

Martin clenched his teeth, closing his eyes briefly as he felt hot tears wanting to form in the back of his eyes. “Jon, I…” he trailed off, not sure where he was even going. 

“I want to listen,” Jon spoke again. “To whatever it is. Even if you think it’s nothing.” 

Martin sighed, pushing his glasses up so he could press his thumb and forefinger into the corner of his eyes. He wished he could feel happy that Jon cared about him enough to even notice something was amiss. That was the healthy response, right? So why did he just feel like a burden? Why did he  _ still _ feel like that in his late twenties? Weren’t things supposed to get better the older you became? Why was it still so hard to accept the idea that other people liked him, or cared about him, just for being himself? 

“Thank you,” Martin chose to say, swallowing down the anxious tears in his throat. “I’ll… I want to, I think. Talk, I mean.” His stomach clenched at the idea, but he’d already said it so he wasn’t taking it back. 

Silence took them over for a moment, Jon’s quiet voice breaking it. “When would you like to talk?” 

“Tonight,” Martin spoke before he could overthink it. Honestly if he didn’t do it today he probably never would. “If you’re free?” 

“I am,” Jon told him, gently taking Martin’s hand in his. “You could stay the night, if you’d like?” 

Martin felt more tears at the back of his eyes. “I’d like that.” 

* * *

Martin didn’t spend too much time at his empty flat before heading over to Jon’s. He didn’t even bother turning on the living room lights, instead just dropping his satchel by the front door, going straight to his room, and piling comfy clothes and toiletries into a little duffel bag. He didn’t look at his movie and anime posters on his bedroom walls, and he certainly didn’t look at the “family” portrait he kept on his desk. He didn’t even grab a snack before walking out and locking the door behind him, already deciding to skip dinner even if Jon offered. 

On the walk over his stomach felt like it was weighed down with stones. He didn’t want to tell Jon anything, not about this. He felt like he’d already been dwelling on it enough; what good would talking about it do? He just wanted to be happy and act like everything was fine until it actually was. 

But even as he thought that, he knew this would be good for him. He knew that Jon would listen attentively, and offer his support, and remind him that he cared. And he knew that he wouldn’t be able to accept it at first, but that later on he would appreciate the sentiments. 

But just because he knew that didn’t make it any easier. 

Martin took a breath, sighing deeply as he arrived at Jon’s building. He shoved the extra key Jon had given him into the front door before making his way up the stairs, picking out another key from his keyring and sticking it in the lock of door 303. 

“I’m here,” Martin called, being greeted with the delightful smell of chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven. 

“Ah!” Jon was in the kitchen, holding a fresh tray of cookies in his hands (which thankfully had oven mitts on them this time). “Come in, come in—the kettle should be just about done. I still have some of that tea you like, the orange ginger? You can make that.” 

“Is this what you’re having for dinner?” Martin teased, closing the door gently behind him with a small smile. “Very nutritious.” 

“At least it’s something, right? Isn’t that what you always tell me?” Jon set the tray down on top of the oven, trying to imitate Martin’s accent with his next words. “‘At least eat  _ something, _ Jon. Jesus.’” 

“I do not sound like that.” Martin found himself smiling a bit wider as he dropped his duffle bag and walked over, kissing Jon’s forehead. “But, yes, that is what I say.” 

Jon smiled back, gripping Martin’s shoulders for some extra balance as he went on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Then you’re welcome.” He walked away then, picking Martin’s bag off the ground before heading to his room with it. “Teabags are already on the counter.” 

Martin chuckled fondly, searching the counter before spotting the box of tea easily. Along with a bottle of honey, a mug with a large, fancy “J,” and another mug that matched with a large “M.” It made him sigh softly, and thankfully he was distracted from any kind of emotion when the kettle started whistling. 

It wasn’t long before they were both on the couch, a mug of tea in each hand and a tray of warm cookies on the coffee table in front of them. Martin was sitting like a normal person, whereas Jon had his back pressed against the armrest with his legs laying on top of Martin’s lap. 

“You really do hate sitting normally, don’t you?” Martin teased for probably the thirtieth time since they’ve been together. 

“I can if it bothers you.” Jon started putting his legs down, so Martin quickly wrapped an arm around his ankles to keep them there. 

“No, no—I like it.” Martin sipped his tea, grinning a little as he continued, “But you do realize how easy it is to tickle you like this?” 

Jon blinked, apparently not having thought about that. “Well, I trust you won’t abuse such a privilege.” 

Martin laughed a little, shaking his head fondly. This was nice. This was what he needed; happy moments that would help him remember that everything was fine. But as the silence stretched on, he was reminded of why he came here in the first place, and that familiar pit filled his stomach. Jon had done all this for him, and he didn’t even know what was wrong. Somehow that made Martin feel even worse. 

“I really am fine, you know,” Martin whispered, swirling his cup around just to watch the liquid crash against the sides. “Just dealing with some stress.” 

Jon was silent, and Martin could picture that familiar crease in his brows without even looking over. “What kind of stress, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Oh, you know.” Martin gave an empty laugh, closing his eyes. “The oldest kind in the book—family.” 

“Ah.” Jon shifted a bit on the couch. “I see.” 

“Yeah.” Martin sighed, bringing his cups to his lips as he mumbled, “I’ve always wondered if it would be better or worse to have siblings. Because on the one hand, maybe we could have grown up supporting each other, but on the other maybe we would have just hated each other.” 

“Family’s always a gamble that way, isn’t it.” 

“It really is.” Martin forced a smile on his face as he lowered his mug onto Jon’s knee, staring into the dark liquid like it would tell him what to say. “And I know I don’t need to tell you this, but it really is amazing how our childhood just… permeates into every aspect of our lives as we age. It’s why I’ve never understood the nature vs. nurture debate—of  _ course _ your home environment plays a big role in shaping who you are. Does anyone actually think it’s all genetics?” 

“Maybe at some point. Nowadays the argument has turned into which part plays a bigger role.” 

“Well, then put me on the nurture side.” Martin shook his head, closing his eyes as he muttered, “Because genetics has nothing against growing up unwanted and unloved.” 

Martin felt Jon tense slightly, most likely out of concern, and then a cold hand on his shoulder. “Martin—” 

“I’ve always found it kind of funny, you know?” Martin interrupted, squeezing Jon’s hand before lightly pushing it off of him. “Invisibility is, like, the perfect power when your own mom doesn’t want you around. Most of my happiest memories consist of me turning invisible just to watch TV with her, because it was the only time where I wouldn’t get glared at or told to go to my room.” 

“How old—?” 

“I hit puberty early. Got my power when I was eight which, coincidentally, is the same year my dad left.” Martin chuckled dryly, sipping his tea before continuing. “Lucky me, right? My parents were yelling about something over dinner one night, and then all of a sudden I’m  _ gone _ , and they both stopped just to look at my chair. I’d never felt more seen, even though all they saw was air. 

“Then, in less than a week, dad’s gone. I don’t even remember much of him, but I know that he was the one who had a gift—water manipulation, I think—while my mom was just a normal human. But, you know? She was glad to send me off to some super-powered boarding school. I was in a really small class until year six, since there aren’t a lot of kids who get their powers that young, so I was able to have a lot of one-on-one lessons. Just gave me more time to practice for when I had to go home and erase any trace of my existence. I was able to produce my own, personal, isolated bubble to hide away in by the time I was ten. My teachers were thrilled with my progress, and I just had to smile like my drive to improve wasn’t born from a desire to disappear completely.” 

Martin turned to Jon, catching his eyes and noticing how they’d become much more shiny since the beginning of his story. “It’s a weird feeling, the invisible bubble. I always feel slightly claustrophobic when I do it, but it’s the easiest way to make sure any sound you make doesn’t reach anyone else. Perfect for trying to sneak around in your own home.” 

Jon simply stared at him, his mouth hanging slightly open as he tried to think of something to say. 

“Sorry,” Martin started, turning back and setting his tea down on the coffee table. “This doesn’t really explain why I’ve been… off the past week.” 

“That’s okay,” Jon told him quietly. “I’m happy to hear whatever you want to tell me.” 

Martin forced a smile onto his lips, wishing desperately that he could believe that stronger than he did. “Thanks. Where was I? Oh,” Martin laughed, rubbing his whole hand across his face and messing up his glasses in the process. “God, whenever I think about my childhood I’m surprised by just how much happened. With how advanced my power became, I was quickly snatched away to a private school for invisibly-gifted students. I thought it was incredible, you know? To be seen, to be told I was special, but that school was probably the worst thing that could have ever happened to me. My new teacher, Peter Lukas—he was, was… awful. In more ways than one.” 

Jon took his legs off of Martin’s lap then, moving to sit beside him instead so he could wrap his arms around his shoulders in a loose hug. “What do you mean?” he whispered, taking Martin’s glasses off before they fell to the floor. 

Martin sniffled, smiling weakly as hot tears further blurred his already terrible vision. “I don’t even know how to explain it? Just, the way he talked about invisibility, it… he was really, really good at making it seem like isolating yourself was the best thing in the world. He encouraged all his students to be invisible for the entire day, if they could. There were so many times where only his voice and some floating chalk would be teaching math and english to an entire classroom of completely invisible students, and sometimes I wondered if I was the only one there listening. To this day I still remember when he told me, ‘It really is better to be invisible, Martin. No one judges you, no one expects anything from you—you’re free to live your life however you want. Isn’t that the best kind of freedom?’ And the worst part was that I  _ agreed _ . He fed that worst part of me, the part that said I was better completely alone. That no one else would understand me, or even want me around, so it’s better to just find comfort in yourself. And I did. At school, Peter Lukas was the only one I spoke a word to, and at home, well, I already mentioned how that went.

“I think the worst part is that I don’t even understand why he was doing that?” Martin sniffled again, wiping his nose on his sleeve before turning to Jon with his eyebrows pinched together. “I  _ still _ don’t understand what his motive was. He was such a polite man, always smiling and cheerful. He never berated us if we didn’t want to be invisible for a day, never told us we were wrong if we wanted to play with our classmates or make noise or just hang out; he’d constantly tell us it was our choice. But after awhile, rarely anyone ever argued with him.” Martin scoffed a little, shaking his head. “The best theory I can come up with is that he was trying to find someone he could turn into a super villain, or an accomplice at least. And if he was, well… I think he almost had me. 

“After my GCSEs he offered me a position as his assistant, and I accepted right away. My mother was getting rather ill, and we needed some extra money around the house. He actually paid for my education degree, on top of paying me, and all the while I was helping him teach new students how to make isolation bubbles, how to make distant objects blink out of sight, how to turn entire  _ buildings _ invisible. He’d always said I was the best student he’d ever had, and that he hoped we could work together for a long, long time.” 

Martin stopped then, his throat closing up at the memories. He swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut tight before delivering this next part as quickly as he could. “When I turned nineteen we went to a bar together, and I asked him if it was weird I hadn’t dated or even kissed anyone yet. And he said that if I felt like I was missing out on something, then I was free to experiment with him.” Jon’s loose hug tightened around his shoulders as Martin began to shake. “That was a  _ fun _ two years.” 

They simply sat together then, Martin’s words hanging in the air. He hadn’t meant to say all that. He was just supposed to be talking about his mom, not about how he was groomed. It could still be called that, right? Even if Peter hadn’t “come onto him” until he was of age? Even if he always waited for Martin to be the one to ask for more intimacy? 

“How did you get away?” Jon asked after what felt like decades. 

“Oh.” Martin laughed weakly, wiping at the tears that fell down his cheeks. “By accident, really. It was winter break, and I’d already told Peter that I was just going to be by myself and invisible the entire time, which he was always delighted to hear; gave him time to sail on his boat in peace. But one night I really didn’t feel like cooking for myself, and I just wanted some awful peppermint coffee before bed. So I turned visible and headed to a cafe, just to order some coffee, then I’d go right back home. But right after I had my coffee in hand, someone grabbed my arm. 

“It was a little girl, probably no older than nine, and she had tears in her eyes as she looked up at me. She started blubbering about how sad and empty I felt, and I didn’t understand what was happening until her mother came over, apologizing and explaining ‘my daughter is an empath. We’re working on getting her to turn it off, I’m sorry, sir.’ She tried to take her daughter away, but the little girl started screaming that I needed help. I turned invisible and booked it out of there. 

“I thought I’d just brush it off as a weird coincidence, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. ‘Sad and empty,’ she had said. Those words kept bouncing around in my head like a hockey puck. Could that really be true? Was I really  _ ‘sad and empty?’ _ I’d thought I was doing fine. I had a good career, a nice flat, a kind-of-boyfriend who ‘respected my independence’—how could I be ‘sad and empty?’ Maybe she was just a terrible empath, I thought, or maybe she just didn’t understand that adults feel things differently. But no matter what, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

“When school started up again, and I was back to teaching children who were just like me, I kept wondering if  _ they _ felt ‘sad and empty,’ and I didn’t… I just  _ couldn’t _ teach them anymore. I didn’t want them to feel like that; I wanted them to feel comfortable. I wanted them to feel proud of who they were, to feel strong in themselves. But when I looked at their faces, really  _ looked _ at them for the first time after becoming Peter’s assistant, it was… wrong. They didn’t look happy, or proud, or—hell—even  _ content _ with their progress. They just looked blank. Like they were just passive observers in their own lives; like it was their destiny to stay invisible until they died. 

“I still had a year and a half left before I’d get my degree, but I told Peter I needed to quit. That I was done with him, and his fucked up school, and I think I even shouted at him that he needed professional help. And just like always he was nothing but polite, just told me to ‘calm down’ and that we could talk about this over drinks. I told him to fuck off and ran away; I had enough saved up where I could pay for the rest of my degree, since living your life as a practical ghost meant you didn’t spend much, and getting a campus job was enough for some extra food money. And while I was there I took advantage of the university’s counseling services, because I didn’t want to be ‘sad and empty’ any more. And it was then that I decided that I  _ did _ still want to be a teacher. Just to be the exact opposite of him—the exact opposite of how I used to teach. Maybe it was to redeem myself, I don’t know, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least  _ try _ to teach others that there’s a better way, you know? That just because you had invisibility didn’t mean you had to live life unseen. That you didn’t have to be alone  _ all the time _ . And it became a lot,  _ lot _ easier to teach after I came here and actually made some friends for the first time in… in  _ ever.” _

Martin stopped and took a breath, taking note of just how heavy his chest felt. And of how Jon was now kneeling on the couch so that he was tall enough to wrap his arms around Martin’s neck and rest his forehead against Martin’s temple. 

“I’m sorry,” Martin whispered. “This is a lot.” 

“It is,” Jon agreed, rubbing comfortingly at his shoulder. “Thank you for telling me.” 

Only a few hot tears had escaped him before, but now he was starting to feel like a leaking faucet. His heart ached, but more out of affection than guilt this time. He sniffled, wiping at his eyes again as he laughed quietly. “And, you know? That  _ still _ doesn’t really explain why I’ve been off this week. God, it’s so simple—all I had to say was that I tried to visit my mom at her nursing home, and she refused to have me in the room. That’s it! I didn’t have to, to… dump all of  _ this _ on you.” 

Jon stayed quiet for a moment, just continuing to rub small circles into Martin’s shoulder. “It’s like you said,” he whispered. “Our childhood permeates into every part of our lives. I’m guessing all of these memories have been floating around in your head for awhile.” 

“Not really the memories,” Martin replied, pressing his palm into one eye. “Just the feelings. No matter how much I’ve proven to myself otherwise, sometimes I still think I’m better alone; it’s more comfortable, sometimes, more familiar. So that’s what I’ve been dealing with this week.” 

“Well.” Jon stopped, seeming to second guess himself before kissing the side of Martin’s head and whispering, “Then I’m even more grateful you decided to tell me all of this.” 

“Jon.” Martin choked before he could say anymore. He turned enough to wrap his arms around Jon’s waist, pulling him closer. Soon Jon was curled up in his lap, hugging him tightly and rubbing soothing circles into his back while Martin buried his still-leaking face into Jon’s neck. 

He never knew it could feel so good to have someone comfort you while you cried. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ: If this AU interests you in any way, I am giving my blessing for you to write or draw whatever you want for it or to change it up however you want (and to please let me know at annzybwrites on tumblr). Also please feel free to message me on that tumblr as well! (If I don't respond, assume that tumblr ate the ask.) 
> 
> Also, if this story didn't make it clear; Martin is VERY powerful and advanced with his invisibility as well. He just doesn't get to show it off as much like Jon.   
> This is everything I had originally written for this AU; I have some other ideas (i.e. exploring the potential differences between magic and superpowers), but still no set plot. I might just start trying to workshop everyone else's backstories and see if a plot emerges that way? I still have no idea what to do with Elias, if anything. In the meantime I'm going to be working on an original story that I will actually submit to a journal this time *fingers crossed*


End file.
